


Core of the Matter

by Kaydu



Category: Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Just realized Asta seems a bit obssessed, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Might not follow BC as you know it, Morally ambiguous Yuno, OOCness, So much heart ache, angst with happy ending, author lives for this ship, borrowing the world and main characters, okay maybe a lot, so much love, some foul language, why is Yuno so attractive?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2020-09-07 20:36:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 47,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20315650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaydu/pseuds/Kaydu
Summary: Asta always knew deep down that he would never be the Wizard King. He always knew in his heart that Yuno would surpass him, as he always had.It didn’t make the announcement any easier to swallow.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy this. It popped out of nowhere and literally wouldn’t let me sleep until I finished it, so here we are. 
> 
> No Beta, so mistakes are all mine.
> 
> This is not a one shot.

The Palace practically glowed with the gold and silver decor threaded throughout all of the surrounding trees, bushes, and columns. It was supposedly the most opulent Crowning that anyone in current history could remember, and Asta believed it. While others around him gaped and stared, he moved forward to enter, his eyes barely straying from their straightforward gaze. He felt almost as if he were submerged under water- his ears couldn’t quite catch the words spoken around him, his chest felt heavy and his breathing strained and slow, and his legs felt heavy as if treading through molasses. 

Truthfully, he didn’t even want to show up. He doubted very much that many people would have noted his absence, but he was obligated to show his face as the Co-Captain of the Black Bulls. 

The air inside the palace felt stifled and hot, working through his lungs like smoke instead of oxygen. Despite having proclaimed his desire to become the Wizard King over and over for the vast majority of his life, being in the Palace now made his skin crawl and the hair on the back of his neck rise. He distinctly felt out of place- he didn’t belong here amongst the hand woven tapestries covering the walls and the golden and silver chandeliers and crystal decanters full of expensive wine. He even skirted around to the sides of the hallway leading to the ballroom so his thick black boots wouldn’t trampled upon the luxurious looking long runners that extended down the floors middle, no matter how clean he knew them to currently be. 

Tugging at the collar of the stuffy Black Bulls Formalwear as he walks into the ballroom is an unconscious sort of thing, his eyes darting around as much as they can to take stock of windows and exits and numbers of people swathed in draping silks and furs, the ladies’ full skirts swishing around their ankles as they danced, the jewels dripping from their ears and necks sending sparkling light glittering everywhere he turns to look. 

He wanders over to a spectacularly long and large table ladened down with platters of plump fruits and crisp vegetables, meats sliced and layered to perfection in various flowery designs. A small fountain of liquid chocolate flows slowly off to the side, beckoning those with fat strawberries to come over. Despite how normally he would dive into food with all the gusto of a starving dog, he had no appetite to speak of. In fact, he wondered idly where the nearest bathroom could be as the back of his throat burned with acid. 

Just as he considered the thought of finding Finral and having him open a portal back to the Black Bulls headquarters, the loud happy blaring of horns echoed off of the walls, vibrating through his clenched teeth as his tongue grew heavy and his mouth dry. He turned his head slowly, not bothering to turn his body around to face the abnormally wide and long stairway draped in rich gold fabric doubling as a walkway. 

At the top of the stairs, flanked by the Captains who held the most noble of blood, stood the current wizard King. Asta couldn’t be bothered to spare even a glance at the man he had attempted to emulate, admire, and surpass for so many years, because his eyes were locked into the tall and lithe Knight standing at the Wizard King’s right side. 

Hair as black as a Raven’s wings, having been allowed to grow out of the wild mess that Asta had always picked on him for, was tied back at the nape if his neck by a golden thread of string. The formal wear of the Golden Dawn, tailored to perfection, accentuated long legs and a strong, wide shoulder set and made his milk white skin stand out in contrast. All of that coupled with striking, half mast eyes of glowing gold made him look almost otherworldly, and Asta felt that sinking pit in his stomach drop even further. 

The entourage paused only for a brief second, enough to garner the attention of the massive amount of people in attendance of the special occasion before descending gracefully. The current Wizard King, as normal, bares white teeth in a wide and cheerful grin, waving slowly to everyone as they move. The Captains trailing behind in a V like formation have expressions on their faces ranging from impassive acceptance to careful and not quite concealed disdain. The man at the King’s Side shows no emotion whatsoever, the typical blank slate everyone is used to seeing. 

As they reach the bottom of the stairs and stop once more, the Wizard King takes a step forward and joyously spreads his arms wide as if attempting to embrace the entire room. Asta wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the man could actually succeed in such a task. 

“Welcome, Knights and guests! I truly hope that your evening so far has been full of revelry and delicious food, for this day is one that shall be remembered for centuries to come! There has never been an occurance such as this, in many ways, and it has set the Kingdom upon a new and glorious path, where we will have a symbol of hope for all classes of people to look up to! May this night be the first step towards a more triumphant and prosperous future!” 

Another magic Knight appears from the side, walking with strong purpose towards the Wizard King, a delicate silver circlet encrusted with black glittering jewels laid upon a plush golden pillow. Even if Asta focused on it, he wouldn’t have been able to tell the finer design as far away as he stood. 

“As tradition, the upcoming Wizard King shall be crowned this day with a circlet of his own design, created by fire and his own magic, taking the form his soul and magic deigns appropriate. And I, as the King descending the throne to relinquish it to the new, take great pride and pleasure in crowning the rising King!” 

There is an anticipatory hush amongst the crowd and yet collectively a buzz of excitement, people breathlessly leaning forward with wide eyes and curling lips. Asta feels himself take a step backwards, away from the fanfare. Away from the crowd, and the happiness, and the awe. 

The Wizard King turns and plucks the circlet from the pillow delicately with both hands, turning the face of it in the direction of the onlookers and holding high above his head. The gleaming silver hurts Asta’s eyes- it’s almost as if the light is focused solely on piercing into his brain and searing away everything within his soul. The King turns to his right, his hands slowly lowering the circlet until it sits snug around the head of the back haired man who still has yet to do anything but stare emotionlessly at the gathered crowd. Asta finds his back against the back wall, not too far away from the main entrance to the ballroom, as the old Wizard King turns once more to the people, raising one arm to point towards the newly crowned Wizard King, slightly bowing in his direction even as he speaks. 

“I give you your new Wizard King....” 

Asta always knew deep down that he would never be the Wizard King. He always knew in his heart that Yuno would surpass him, as he always had. 

It didn’t make the announcement any easier to swallow. The words echoed in his head like a gong as he turned his back and walked briskly down the hallway, away from the cheers and applause and whistles. He walked away from expectations and duty and the rising bitter sting of regret and jealousy and sadness. 

“The holder of a four leaf clover Grimoire; and the youngest ever crowned at the age of 23, Yuno!” 

As the cool night hit his too hot skin he welcomed the sting and bite of it, even as his legs unconsciously threw him into a run heading towards the surrounding forest. He didn’t even realize that there were tears in his eyes or that there were voices behind him, calling his name. 

He just ran, as far away from the Wizard King Yuno as he could get, and when he found himself back at the Black Bulls headquarters well after sunrise the next day, he requested the longest and furthest mission he could get from the Clover Kingdom, and kept on running.


	2. The Emperor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All mistakes are my own. Anyone want to Beta?? LOL!

The side of his head was burning, and he tried to ignore it. He was bent over his assigned desk, trying and failing to complete the report that he was meant to send to the Black bulls Headquarters to be added to the quarterly report. He had successfully eradicated a nasty band of rogue wizards who had been terrorizing the commoners that lived at the very northern border of the Clover Kingdom, close to the Forsaken Realm. He was the only Knight that jumped at the opportunity to be semi-permanently stationed there, covering the entirety of the northern border completely solo. The only communication or news he received about the goings-on in the Capital and the rest of the Kingdom arrived on the tailwinds of a broom ridden by the only Knight who bothered to get a portal opened close enough to fly to his base of operations to see him. 

Hence the burning at the side of his head. Giving it up as a lost cause for now with a heavy put upon sigh he leaned back, the old wooden chair creaking beneath him as he stretched out his legs, narrowed his eyes, and started to rub his temple to try to expel the oncoming headache he felt brewing behind his eyes. 

“What?” His voice is hoarse, his throat scratching a burning through dryness. His voice is too clipped, too rough, but he couldn’t find it within himself to even care. From behind ash blond bangs that brushed along the tops of his cheekbones he lifted somewhat feverish looking too-bright green eyes, the whites bloodshot and sporting heavy black rings underneath due to his lack of sleep. 

“You look like crap, Stupid-sta.” 

Despite his general apathetic mindset Asta can feel the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly in a smile. He could admit even if just to himself that he missed Noelle’s abrasive yet caring attitude. Running his hand back through his overgrown hair and feeling a few tangles that his fingers caught in he idly tried to remember the last time he had bothered to run a brush through it. He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. In fact....

He cleared his throat a few times before being able to ask, “What day is it?” 

Once upon a time Asta might have cringed at the way Noelle’s shoulders tensed and rose, hands resting On her hips and jaw working in irritation. Her thin silver brows slanted down in a frown over her wide soft-pink eyes. Asta took a moment to lean back further and examine her as a whole while she visibly spoiled herself up for the tirade he knew would soon explode. Her fair skinned legs were longer than he remembers; hips wider and waist smaller with toned abdomen left on display from the cropped pink top and short Black Bulls cape draped proudly over her shoulders... impeccably clean and wrinkle free. Her silver hair was pulled back and braided into an intricate bun, leaving her oval shaped face and bow shaped lips on proud display. 

Once upon a time, he might have looked at her and appreciated her mature body and perhaps might have even commented on it..... but that was what felt like ages ago to him. 

Surprisingly enough, Noelle did not explode as he had expected her to. Instead she breathed in deeply and closed her eyes for a brief second before slowly exhaling through her teeth. ‘Hmmm,’ he mused to himself, ‘she must have been practicing her self control since the last time she was here.’ For some reason that thought amused him, a small spark of the happy go lucky youngster he used to be alighting in his chest only to be immediately squashed by the flash of a memory of laying in the snow, laying head to head with.....

“The new Coronation is next month,” Noelle starts off slowly as if speaking to someone who may not understand what she is saying which, ok, that’s fair. It’s not as if he normally took in much of what she said anyways, but he didn’t have to ask what she was referring to this time. He attempted to do the math in his head to figure out exactly what the date was but still came up short. She continued just as slowly, one of her hands dropping from her waist to reach down and unsnap a scroll that had gone unnoticed strapped to her thigh. She stared at it with a peculiar expression on her face before taking the few steps forward that allowed her to place it upon the desktop, sliding it towards him with slender fingers and a wary look in her eyes. “I was told to bring this to you, despite it being too early for the quarterly reports to be taken. Those aren’t due for another 20 days or so.......” Her voice trailed off unsure, and then she continued hesitantly in a quiet almost whisper, “This was flagged as an urgent correspondence from...” 

She trailed off again, stepping back and looking everywhere around the rundown room as she could to avoid looking straight at him. She needn’t have bothered because he wasn’t looking at her anyways. His gaze was instead focused on the gilded scroll as if it were some sort of poisonous snake, unconsciously leaning away from it and gripping the edges of the scratched up desk. There was a loud static in his ears, vision tunneling and breath stuttering in his chest. 

He couldn’t remember exact numbers but he knew he had been out of the Capital for some time. A year and a half, possibly two? In that time Noelle had brought numerous reports of the Clover King’s Failures. His slack managing of affairs and gluttonous attitude had begun to throw the Kingdom into a downward spiral with neighboring Kingdoms turning their noses up at him. The citizens of Clover had begun to rebel.... not in violent ways, and when the Clover King had called upon the Wizard King, expressing the desire for the Knights to be deployed to squash the protests violently, there had been a backlash that reverberated throughout the entire Kingdom and even beyond. He hadn’t paid it much more than a passing thought since he had first heard of, too absorbed in his own little world consisting of keeping order where there was barely any to speak of to begin with.

He couldn’t remember Noelle saying anything about the Clover King being dethroned, though by the way she was eyeing him from the corner of her eyes as she still faced away from him he supposed she had mentioned some sort of hint. He rolled his head in a circle from side to side and reveled in the crackling of his neck as he did so. Finger by finger he forced himself to let go of the desks edge and reached out to open up the scroll with such care it would seem as if he expected the damn thing to burst into flames. 

There were no words inked onto the parchment but as the scroll unfurled fully a symbol flared briefly in the center before a slight gust of cool air ruffled his hair softly, smelling of cloves and cinnamon and the fresh air of the only place he had ever considered home, his mind summoning up the happy laughter of children and the kind smile of a sweet nun and father. 

From the scroll wisps of white clouds rose, curling almost lazily into letters that eventually formed words that hovered in the air in front of his face. It wasn’t signed at the end, but it didn’t have to be. There was only one person in the entire Clover Kingdom that could perform such magic that would hold so long and so far away from its caster. 

~~~~You are cordially invited to attend the coronation of Wizard King Yuno as the 1st Emperor of Clover Kingdom. Ceremonies are to begin at half past midday, the tenth day of the eighth month, year xxxx at the Clover Palace. All Clover Citizens are invited, no response to this invite required. The Wizard King looks forward to seeing you there.~~ 

In smaller letters just below are words Asta knows are only for his invite specifically. The small script, even in cloud form, has an achingly familiar neatness and slant to it that he hadn’t seen in a very long time. 

~~I expect to see you there, Asta.~~

The sharp pang of longing hits him harder than he expected and he drops the scroll as if it had bitten him. The clatter of it is loud in the silent room and Asta is not really surprised when the scroll poofs out of existence, taking the words with it. 

He vaguely registers the fact that his hands are shaking, a rising tide off loss and deep rooted despondency and too much anger has him jolting out of his chair to snatch his tattered Black Bulls cape from its precarious perch on the corner of his desk, scattering dust as it’s thrown around his shoulders sloppily. He makes it to the door, wrenching to open to slam against the wall and allow the stifling heat from outside to flow into the already warm space. He pauses for just a second.... just long enough to rattle some lame excuse to Noelle for his sudden departure before disappearing outside. He patrolled for longer than he normally would, well into dusk, the sun only an orange glow hidden behind the horizon and his eyes straining to see the far distance. He is partly relieved and partly aggravated when he returns to his small little shack to find Noelle is no longer there. The inside is clean for once, though, paperwork neatly sorted and stacked into piles on his desk ranging from the most urgent to the least, a clean scent permeating the air instead of the musty one he has grown used to. There is a pot of cooled beef stew sitting on the small table that rests beside his newly made small cot with a stasis spell woven around it to keep the food from spoiling. On top of the lid sits a square sheet of paper folded in half with Noelle’s writing scrawled across it in purple ink. 

-Please come. The Capital is not the same without you.- 

It’s the closest that Noelle has ever come to actually saying that she cared for him and enjoyed his company, but the numbness that has been allowed to fester and grow within him since he stormed out earlier doesn’t allow him to feel anything about the note at all. 

He goes about his late night routine with a blank mind. Pushups until his arms gave out, sit-ups until his abdomen clenched and stabbed in protest, lungs constricting after he does as many jumping jack as he can before collapsing to the floor. It takes him until roughly midnight to pick himself up off of the floor and stumble over to his cot. It takes him another hour before he falls into a fitful sleep that lasts only until the sky starts to lighten up outside once more. He starts his day, the pot of food still untouched, and pushes away everything but the top mission on his pile; a request for aid in a small village roughly two days away, citing attacks by shadowy demonic like creatures controlled by a dark mage bent on revenge for being kicked out of said village as a child for his deviant ways. He departs immediately, small satchel of necessary belongings and his Grimoire tucked over his shoulder, and doesn’t allow himself a single moment to think of the smoky words he had read the previous day. 

The celebration of the crowning of the Emperor of Clover lasted weeks and spread across every city and village in the Kingdom. People laughed and smiled and hope shone in their eyes once more, dreaming of a better life and future before them. 

Asta doesn’t go to the Coronation or the Capital. He simply keeps his head down and plows from one request for aid to another, eyes and ears shut to the chatter pertaining to anything other than his missions.


	3. The Announcement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not Beta’d. Well, my pugs might have tried to help, so I blame them for all mistakes. O,o Don’t judge me.

There are many people that Asta could have reasonably accepted showing up in Hage, at the ramshackle shed he had commandeered in order to keep himself out of the elements. It had been five long months since the Emperor was declared, and the Kingdom of Clover was already prospering for it regardless of the cold winter that had draped itself across the lands. Snow didn’t seem to deter crops from growing, animals were still reproducing and there wasn’t a single corner of Clover that hadn’t been touched by magic and luck, almost as if the earth itself was showing its approval for the Emperor. Whispers spread through the commoners, rumors that the Emperor was descendant from the very first Wizard King. There was very little loss of life due to sickness or starvation- every town had a trained healer and healers assistant poised and ready to be called up at any moment in time, vastly reducing disease and injury across the Kingdom. Even in Hage, so far from the Clover Kingdom’s inner border, the tales of prosperity were shared by travelers and even thieves and criminals, of the miracle working Emperor. Out here, cooped up in this precarious structure, he had expected to be left alone to do what he has been doing; helping people as quickly as he could so that they wouldn’t have to wait for weeks or even months for a squad to accept their requests for help. 

So when he opened the door that was barely hanging on by its hinges, the air outside as cold and frigid as inside, one of the last people he expected to see was a Golden Dawn member. Klaus himself even more so. 

Decked out in true noble fashion, his double breasted long sleeved shirt is an ivory white lined with shimmering gold, high collar clasped together with a clover shaped golden toggle. A thick furred cloak the color of coal hangs over his narrow shoulders, hiding his arms and hands and reaching down to his white booted ankles. His once black framed glasses have been traded for golden frames as well, his light blue hair in the same side swept style Asta remembers and those fuchsia hues eyes are narrowed and sparked with thinly veiled irritation. Asta blinks rapidly as if to dispel a mirage and is disappointed whenever the man standing in the doorway doesn’t disappear. He takes a brief moment to center himself, half consciously recognizing the broach on Klaus’ right breast as a denotation of advisor to the King, and steps aside with a bland smile, motioning the other man in as if he were entering a castle. He says nothing and Klaus crosses the threshold with a curled lip, eyes taking in first the barely habitable interior before briskly turning on his heel to face Asta, heels clicking and chin rising as he looks down at Asta from the long length of his nose. As rigid as ever, and for some inexplicable reason that makes Asta want to snicker. 

“The Emperor has sent a summons to all Captains and Co-Captains of the Clover Kingdom to the Capital by the end of the third day from today. Attendance is mandatory. Furthermore, I have been sent here to distribute your new station orders. The outlying posts are being disbanded indefinitely, and you are to return promptly to the Capital to take over the Black Bulls as Captain immediately. You are to bring with you an appointment for your new Co-Captain, along with any other changes to the teams within the Black Bulls Squad that you deem as necessary. Upon arrival at the Capital you are to report to the throne room with the other Captains and Co-Captains for an important announcement made by the Emperor. Attendance is compulsory. Has everything I have delivered been clear?” 

Asta takes a slow blink, the words Klaus had spoken taking a while to process within his mind. He quickly throws up his carefully crafted and practiced walls within his mind, separating all of the information into different sections. There are questions forming too, but he pushes them aside In favor of drawing that emotionless state he finds as his sanctuary forward, the darkness in the back of his mind swelling and slinking through him like a gleeful puppy let loose from its cage. He can vaguely sense a hint of a sharp grin and long horn from the corner of his inner thoughts but with a simple nudge, the image wavers out like a dying flame leaving only the eerie calm draped over him like a protective film. 

He is jolted out of his inner mind when the loud sound of air being sucked between teeth catches his attention and almost blearily he focuses his feverish eyes back onto Klaus. The other mans face is twisted up in derision, nose scrunched up in displeasure. 

“For the love of god, Asta, when was the last time you looked at yourself in a mirror?” 

Asta blinks again, shifting through his mind for the answer. How long -had- it been? He vaguely remembers stripping down and wading into a frigid river, his reflection peering up at him from rippling water, but he couldn’t pinpoint how long ago that was. It had been brisk outside, gooseflesh rising upon his arms and legs before he ever stepped foot into the water, so it couldn’t have been -that- long ago but he had stopped keeping track of time long ago. Time didn’t matter, only sun up to sun down mattered and what he could do in that span of time. 

Belatedly he realizes that Klaus is actually expecting some sort of response and so he lets go of the door which is still wide open and turns to fully face the man, simultaneously tugging the tattered Black Bulls cape away from his shoulders and holding it towards Klaus with a carefully blank expression on his face, idly taking note of the way those oddly purple colored eyes widen just a fraction. 

“In that case, I officially step down as the Captain of the Black Bulls effective immediately and put forth Noelle Silva as a Captain Candidate with my full backing.” The words roll thickly off of his tongue, grumbling like crunched gravel and causing the urge to cough to arise. 

There is a standstill for a long few minutes, time stretching out between them as they eyeballed each other carefully. There is a moment where Asta believed that Klaus would summon up his grimoire and attack him but it passes as quickly as a hummingbirds wings and Asta wondered if he had imagined the dark look that passed over Klaus’ face. 

There was nothing there now, though, which was even more unnerving. Klaus always had some sort of expression on his face, even if it was a negative expression most of the time, so to see him simply staring made a feeling of unease start to push at Asta’s carefully crafted defenses. 

Then Klaus is turning, walking to the door and placing his hand upon the wood, gazing at it as he runs his fingers down until he reaches the handle which he grips tightly. He doesn’t bother to look back at Asta as he speaks, and it’s minutes or possibly hours after he closes the door softly as he leaves that his words finally and fully hit Asta in the chest. He reaches up to clench at the threadbare fabric of his shirt above his heart which was shattering even further than it already was. 

“The Emper- no. No. Yuno is going to announce it at the official gathering, but I think you should know now. Yuno is to be married to a Princess from the Spade Kingdom in order to foster a solid alliance. Do us all a favor and at least clean up and show up to the announcement. If you still feel like relinquishing the Black Bulls Captain title by then, feel free to stop being a sniveling coward and hand over your cloak to the Emperor himself. Not that I think you have the courage to do so.” 

It’s hours later that Asta even registers the fact that he’s kneeling on the cold floor staring at nothing at all. It takes him two more hours to decide what he’s going to do, and another hour to talk himself into packing up his meager belongings. He stops in the nearest town to alert them of the news before turning, for the first time in a little over two years, towards the Capital. The first step is the hardest, but the ones after are painful.


	4. The Distraction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. Don’t blame me, blame the creature that resides in my head for this one. Please don’t hate me. 😭

The darkness of the grungy bar was something that Asta was quite used to, what with his past two years being lived through in random abandoned buildings. At this point it was almost welcomed. There was a woman standing upon a small handcrafted platform crooning out something sultry and heavy, the accompanying drum and other instruments played by tired looking commoners, a small wooden bowl at her feet containing a handful of coins winking a dull bronze and some silver. Asta reckons it’ll maybe buy a small loaf of bread if the woman is lucky... he wonders if she has children that will have to split the bread in order to feel their starving bellies before remembering the flag towering above all of the low roofed houses he saw when entering the City. 

It had been a new and curious sight for him at first, it’s light blue color standing out starkly against the cloudy sky. He had skirted through alleyways and over rooftops until he was close enough to crouch upon the corner of one roof and see the white four leaf clover in its center along with several lines of people entering a large building empty handed and exiting with satchels full of easily grown and made foods- tatoes, breads, some of what looked like dried and salted meats hanging from the corners of children’s mouths as they happily gnawed away, laughing and looking as if they hadn’t had to miss a meal in quite a long while despite their well worn clothes and shoes. 

He takes another drag from the tankard in his hands, the thick and almost overly sweet mead rolling over his tongue and slipping down his throat. It continues to warm him from the inside out and he can feel the dark flush of his cheeks, the floaty sensation spreading throughout his body a more than welcomed feeling. 

He had arrived back at the Capital just as the sun was beginning to set and now, well after the moon had hung itself in the sky, he wants nothing more than to forget that he has even come back here at all. There’s an aching hole somewhere in his chest close to his heart that’s yawning open hungrily and the alcohol is helping him tamp down on the oily darkness forever creeping in the back of his mind, silently watching and waiting for him to give up any sort of control to it. 

He rolls his shoulders back and the white shirt he wears pulls tight over his wide chest, the ties holding it together straining against the movement. Downing the rest of his drink in a single gulp while already rising out of his chair to grab another from the bored looking man standing behind the bar, he is only mildly surprised when a full tankard is sat down just in front of him. 

His uniquely colored eyes slide to his left to silently assess the taller man who has approached him. He takes in the Burgandy and gold lion insignia on the mans left breast clinically. It almost blends in completely with the short sleeved tunic the man is wearing, deep azure colored hair pulled back into a high ponytail, striking sunflower yellow eyes avidly watching Asta’s every move. Asta himself stands up straight, half turning his body towards the stranger as he slides his hand around the new tankard’s handle. He takes his time raising it up to his lips and takes a long, slow sip before lowering it it slightly and running his tongue along his bottom lip. He watches those yellow eyes flare and follow the motion before flicking back up to meet Asta’s steady gaze. 

I’m the background the music has changed to a more upbeat tune, still seductive and sending pulses of a new kind of heat through Asta’s veins. He has indulged in physical pleasure in the past, men and women both having graced his bed. He always picked carefully and never lingered afterwards, and -always- tweaked his appearance just enough as to not be recognizable, just as he has done tonight. He wanted to avoid any rumors of a Black Bulls member rolling in the sheets with less than reputable people, sometimes even those who sold their bodies for a night, making their way back to the Capital to destroy the credibility and honor of his Squad. Currently his hair was spelled a deep chocolate brown to compliment the glamoured olive fan of his skin, courtesy of a street-side witch who sold her gift mostly to vain women. He never changed his eyes, however, and he always tries very hard to ignore the dark voice in the back of his mind that taunts him for it, along with the choice of his partners. 

He shifts his weight to the foot closest to the other man and takes in the scent of peppermint and coffee that he can detect through the smell of booze and smoke lingering in the air, eyes falling hooded and dark. The other man reciprocates and lowers his head a little more to look down at him as Asta tilts his chin to look up. Asta quirks his lips in a small little coy smile designed to encourage and watches cat-like as the pupils of those yellow eyes blow wide. A deep voice speaks rough and low, showing off white teeth behind thin lips. 

“You looked as if you could do with a refill,” the stranger says and watches hungrily as Asta takes another long gulp of the alcohol. “And perhaps even a dance or two?” It’s stated as a question, a subtle suggestion that it could lead to more afterwards. Asta doesn’t look away from those vivid eyes, his thoughts nice and slow by this point and that dark voice in his mind a quiet murmur he can block out. He reaches with his free hand to grab his traveling cloak as the other sets the mostly empty tankard down on the table along with a small handful of gold coins that add up to much more than the two drinks he’s had are worth. He tosses the cloak over his shoulders and grabs the strap of his pack to raise it from the floor as he heads towards the door, throwing a sly look behind him at the other man. 

“I only dance in private,” he says, smiling like a shark at the man who follows after him promptly, the dark promise hidden in that yellow gaze making the hair on Asta’s arms stand up. 

Not much later, with Asta’s arms tied above his head to an unfamiliar headboard and his strong legs wrapped around a long and slender torso with dark blue hair falling down to tickle his face, he tries extremely hard to forget. 

Forget where he is. Who he is. Why all of the partners he has chosen over the years have either black hair or light hazel to yellow colored eyes. To forget that tomorrow (today? What time is it even?) he will be standing amongst the other Captains and Knights in front of Y- .. The Emperor, being told of the upcoming union between two Kingdoms. 

He tries to forget .... ignore.... why he has to watch the yellow eyes of the man draped over and above him as the unnamed man reaches completion, gaze burning bright and blissed as slender fingers wrap around Asta’s own erection. 

He tries to just forget.


	5. The Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pugs made me do it. 
> 
> I swear.

When Asta stirs in the early hours of the morning the movement is accompanied by cotton mouth, a mild headache, and aches all over his body. His lower back protests particularly loud and he attempts to alleviate some of the discomfort by stretching out fully and arching his back. His lips curl into a self-depreciating smile as he allows himself a moment of disgust directed specifically at himself before rolling off the single bed to pad towards the stone basin set in the wall underneath a brass faucet. He draws water and relishes in the sharp bite of the cold, splashing his face a few times before running his hands back through his once more ash blonde hair. His eyes flick to the window, noting that he probably had about an hour before he had to be at the castle. 

With that in mind and an empty stomach demanding to be filled he makes quick work of shoving his clothes from the night before into his pack after reluctantly dressing in the proper Black Bulls attire, shoulders draped with a half-cape, Black Bulls insignia securing it in place. His clean black boots that he hasn’t worn since the night he was last in the Capital nudging the door of the rented room open, allowing him to stroll down the hallway and out the front doors of the Inn. He hadn’t wanted to make his way to the Black Bulls Headquarters quite yet, so renting a room at the Inn was his only other option. There’s a small breeze that shifts his unruly hair and he closes his eyes while taking the feel of it in. He still faintly smells of liquor and sweat and sex but it’s barely there and someone would have to be right up in his personal space to even pick up on it, so he’s not really bothered. 

People meander the streets, some with purpose and others like himself who stroll as if they have nowhere important to be. He grabs some sort of pita stuffed with sweet smelling jam at a cart pushed by a younger boy and overpays as he always does. Most of his earnings still go to the Orphanage but what he keeps is rarely spent on himself- only the essentials like soap and food and occasional companionship if he feels the need. The spare he gives to anyone who looks as if they could do with a few extra coins- always those who look as if they don’t live in the best of conditions. There had been plenty of those types up north, at least at first, and he had felt a sense of being needed and appreciated where otherwise he felt like he didn’t matter. Just another cog in the wheel of a massive clock that wasn’t vital to its function. 

A magic Knight with no magic. How truly ironic, what with his lifelong obsession and desire being centered around some day being the Wizard King. How he had wanted to some day be able to look down at Yuno instead of always looking up. Some day being able to see Yuno look towards him in awe, some day being the center that Yuno orbited around and being able to stand proudly. Some day becoming someone impossible for Yuno to ignore, to never be able to look back at him as he continued to leave Asta floundering to catch up in the invisible race between them. 

Asta can’t remember when he realized that he was only racing and fighting against himself, that Yuno didn’t even need to look at him as an honest contender on the pathway to the Wizard’s throne. It had been a gradual and sneaky thing riding on the back of offhand comments from others about his lack of magic. It had slithered through the cracks of insecurity hidden behind his loud and boisterous attitude, poisoning him without him realizing it. It had seeped into his pores like an unseen parasite, burrowing itself deep into his soul. Thrown his way with every silent and dismissive glance Yuno had sent him. Rang loudly in his ears when it was too late for him to stop it with every day of silence that passed between them. Sharp as blades it sliced through him everytime Asta was privy to watching Yuno practice spells from afar or fight in a battle to come out the other side virtually unscathed where Asta would stumble, a dirtied bloody mess that He often found himself. 

The revelation had tasted like ash when it fully manifested. He had requested a few days of leave and had fled back to the orphanage where Sister Lily was able to coax out what was bothering him, as she had always been able to do. It had been years since he could last remember shedding any tears but sitting there on a hill, head in Sister Lily’s lap and her gentle fingers combing through his hair, he had allowed himself to give in, his body heaving with every loud sob, tears trails of fire down his cheeks. 

When his eyes had finally dried and his energy spent he felt as if an iron band had wrapped itself around his heart and squeezed. They had watched the sun begin it’s descent towards the horizon when Sister Lily had laid her palm flat against the top of his head. Her familiar scent was a temporary balm to his grief. She had spoken gently, quietly, her words holding a heavy note of understanding that he hadn’t understood at first. 

“Is it truly the idea of not becoming the Wizard King that has you so upset?” She had paused as if searching for the right words to continue and when she had, her voice had lowered even further. 

“Asta..... what truly makes your heart weep so hard? Is it.... is it truly as you say or is it.... something else?” 

-Is it something else?- 

That question had ricocheted in his mind for the next two days and had dogged his heels all the way back to the Capital. What had Sister Lily meant? Every time he went over their conversation he drew a blank. What was she trying to say? 

He had just crossed through the gates of the city when the scent of something familiar brushed past him, carried upon a passing breeze. He had turned his gaze up to the sky where he unexpectedly met eyes of intense gold looking back at him from a perch upon a magically made carpet of wind. Yuno and another Knight were heading out of the city, presumably for a mission. 

-Or is it.... something else?- 

And suddenly it hit Asta with the force of a freight train, stealing his breath away and upending his entire world. It had left him more unbalanced within himself than he had ever felt before. He had turned his head to follow their progress just as Yuno turned away from him, back straight and regal, his entire state of being calling out to Asta’s soul and opening up that bottomless hole within him that was never able to be filled no matter how hard Asta had trained. No matter how hard he had worked himself. No matter how much alcohol he drank and within the past two years, no matter how many people he had taken to bed. 

-Is it something else?- 

That day was when Asta’s whole world completely changed. 

-Something else?- 

..... 

Asta was 21 years old that day he figured it out, standing bereft and alone in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the townsfolk around him. 

Asta was 21 years old when he realized he was desperately and irrevocably in love with Yuno, and probably always had been and always would be. 

Asta was 21 when his heart broke, because he knew many things and one of those was that he would never... could never... have Yuno. 

-Something.... else?- 

He hadn’t been back to the orphanage since then. He received letters from Sister Lily and the other kids, but never sent any response. 

-Something.....- 

Asta wished Sister Lily had never asked. He wish he had never realized it at all. 

-Something....- 

He pulls himself out of his thoughts as he finds himself at the grand stone stairs leading up to the front of the Castle, his somewhat haunted eyes having trouble fully focusing on his destination. 

-Something.....- 

He takes a moment to pull himself together, to erect the walls of steel he had been building since the day he had realized everything. He forces himself to take the first stair, and then the next, until his palm is laid flat against the ornate carvings upon one of the doors, the guards standing at either side of it sparing him barely a glance to see his Black Bulls insignia. 

-Something...-

He takes a deep breath, clenches his teeth, and pushes open the door. 

-......else....-


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my #1 motivator, Coco. You know who you are. ;)
> 
> This one was a doozy to write. Dunno how I really feel about it so please let me know.
> 
> Thanks for all of the support!

Asta is very, very careful to avoid eye contact with the other Captains and Co-Captains. They have been ushered into an orderly to rows, facing each other as they stand toes to the edge of a red runner that leads up to the impressively carved marble throne that Asta has never seen before. His cursory glance of it made him conclude that it was probably something magically created for Yuno alone, the gleaming white interrupted only by natural thin fissures of black. From his position at the very end of the row to the right of the throne he cannot even begin to guess for sure what the black interlaced within is made of, so he quickly puts it out of his mind. His eyes are forward but directed just over Yami's tall shoulder. He doesn't know what the expression on his Captain's face may hold and he truthfully doesn't want to. He had been gone for so long, with his stilted and brief reports being the only communication between himself and the Captain of the Black Bulls. He thinks for just a moment that he should hold some sort of guilt for not keeping in touch with anyone, but he can't force himself to really care overall. Sure, it had been lonely in the north but his self imposed exile to the borders was what he had needed and wanted, and he wishes that he was still there curled up in some hole in the forest place or hunting law breakers and rogue witches and wizards. 

His formal attire is itchy and tight and Asta wonders if there is some sort of magic weaved within them that would make it harder for him to breathe as it is now. He takes short inhales and silent exhales and can feed a bead of sweat trickle from his left temple to his jaw where it hangs precariously but doesn't fall. He doesn't want to be here. He doesn't want to deal with this, he can't deal with any of this, because he hadn't thought that his heart could be broken even more than it already was but he had been wrong, So so wrong, because Yuno is to be married. 

He knew he could never have him, he -knew- that, and yet..... and yet....

He curses himself for it even as he feels a tremble run all the way through him, starting at his white knuckled fists at his sides all the way down to the toes curling within his boots like claws attempting to root him to the floor so he doesn't flee once more. He has no choice, an official summons is unavoidable. 

So caught up in his inner turmoil he startles badly when a trumpet sounds and the doors behind the throne creak open on a gust of wind that carries that scent... that scent.... all the way down to Asta's nose and his heart goes from barely beating at all to suddenly thundering hard behind his ribcage, a wave of nausea tickling the back of his throat as if in warning or promise. He swallows roughly, breathing in deep in a futile attempt to get himself reined in even though he knows he will fail at it. Fortunately he has learned throughout the years to keep his outward face as impassive as possible no matter what goes on within him. 

From his peripheral he can see even though he tries desperately not to. Yuno moves with all of the grace he could ever possess. Instead of walking he almost seems to float around the throne to stand before it, Klaus standing just behind the throne to the right side, pushing his glasses up as he surveys the gathered Knights. He can see most of the other Knights turn their heads towards the throne in acknowledgement and even the gazes he remembered to be hostile or disgruntled years ago are filled with respect as they take in the Emperor standing before them. Asta can barely hear a thing over the roaring in his ears. 

"Thank you all for attending. Everything said here today will soon be public knowledge but as I have said before, the Knights will always be appraised of changes before they officially are announced." The Emperor's voice is dark and low and smooth, something unfamiliar to Asta and yet still recognizable. The sound of it sends a shiver through his body and raises gooseflesh up and down his arms beneath his long sleeves. He takes in a deep breath, forcing it down into his lungs to expand within his chest as he is torn between listening or blocking it out. 

"As some of you are aware, Captain Yami is stepping down as the Captain of the Black Bulls effective immediately. Upon careful consideration and multiple recommendations from the members of the Black Bulls as well as the endorsement of Captain Yami himself, it has been decided that the current Co-captain of the Black Bulls shall assume the Captaincy and all of the responsibilities and power that are to come with the position." There is a pause and Asta feels as if he really is going to be sick because he doesn't want to be the center of attention, he wants to melt away into the shadows and avoid all of the eyes that are now locked onto him, flashes of surprise and disapproval and a small amount of acceptance within those gazes enough to make his clench and grind his teeth, jaw muscles twitching with the force of it. So absorbed in attempting to act as if those gazes didnt effect him that the breath is audible knocked out of him in some sort of strange parody of a strangled grunt as he is addressed. "Is there any objections to assuming the role of Black Bulls Captain, Asta?" 

Asta's words leave him. His voice leaves him. In fact, he feels as if whatever is left of his very soul leaks out of him and drifts away because of the way that his name sounds rolling off of Yuno's lips, dropping into something dangerous and deceptively calm and soft as if Asta hadn't spent the past couple of years and some change avoiding anything that would bring him anywhere close to Yuno. An uncomfortable silence falls upon the throne room and Asta notes almost hysterically that that annoying little bead of sweat had finally dropped away from his jaw to slide down the crook of his neck and disappear in the fabric of his half-cape. His chin drops minutely and before his mind even decides on a response his head flicks back and forth in a sharp shake. If he were paying more attention to the others instead of dropping his gaze to the floor he would have noted widening eyes and fleeting, nervous glances cast towards the Emperor. There is a few more seconds of silence after his non verbal answer and then Yuno is speaking again. 

"Very well then, the matter is settled. Yami, you are to take Asta back to your headquarters after this meeting and help smooth over the transition of authority. You are to stay within the Black Bulls Headquarters for the next month helping teach him the ins and outs of what is expected of him now that he is a Captain. Please be sure to send word of his Co-Captain appointment by first light in the morning so that I may announce both pieces of news during the general assembly tomorrow. Now that that is completed there is one other piece of information that I must impart to you. This is not to be discussed with your Squad members or anyone outside of this room until after tomorrows Assembly."

Here it comes, Asta thinks morosely to himself. He's worked himself up in quite the internal state and he's not sure exactly how much longer he can stand here listening to Yuno speak in that blasted voice. He supposes that he should be greatful that Klaus had actually agreed to deliver the summons to him personally and going even further by giving him a heads up on the news instead of letting him get smacked with it here and now. Another drop of sweat rolls down his face and over the curve of his jaw to trace the length of his neck. He wants to wipe it away because it's an irritation but he also is thankful for it because it keeps his mind somewhat distracted.

"The King of the Spade Kingdom has agreed to an alliance with the Clover Kingdom. This alliance will be a boon to our Kingdom- materials and foods that we cannot grow here in this country will now be traded with goods and services that can only be found in Clover. This will potentially bring us into an era of never seen before prosperity as well as being the most militarily sound decision we could make. Having the protection and backing of the Spade Kingdom will prove to be invaliable were we to ever need it. There are no downsides to this alliance that my closest advisors and myself could find, and I am not objectional to her as my wife and Queen. We have combed through every single document that is to be signed and agreed upon. In saying that, there was a single stipulation that the Spade King insisted upon to ensure the security of the alliance itself and our adherance to it. As it currently stands, within six months of the signing and sealing of the alliance, I shall be wed to the Spade King's eldest daughter. She is to arriving within the month along with a small party of guards and chaperones, so I expect all of you to act as befitting of your current stations and treat her with the esteem that her title carries. As your future Queen I want her first impression of our Country to be beyond reproach. I shall be getting with the Captains soon to assign a party that will be meeting her at the border of the two Kingdoms to escort her the rest of the way to the Capital. If there is any of you who particularly wish to take on this task, feel free to approach me with the request and I shall take it up with my advisors for the best course of action."

Truthfully, Asta should be upset about the entire delivery of the announcement. He should be upset about the arranged marriage of his lifelong friend and unrequited love. He should be upset at himself for squirreling away up North to battle his own demons relating to the failure of not becoming Wizard King and the yearning for something more than friendship and rivalry with Yuno. He knows this. He knows. But as is his usual way his mind completely latches onto one seemingly insignificant part of the entire speech that Yuno just gave. Only a single part of it allowed that creeping darkness in the back of his mind start to wiggle through the crack that Yuno's metaphorical dagger of wind caused. He can feel himself slipping into himself as he often does when his emotions begin to gain too much foothold in his mind. It keeps repeating over and over and over and......

-I am not objectional to her as my wife and Queen....- 

The Emperor is speaking still but Asta is not present to hear anymore of it. He is drifting behind a blank, dull gaze of green. He sees only those words forming in the silence of his mind, curling into existance made of white whisps of air and written in too familiar handwriting. If he looked at it from a beneficial for the Kingdom sort of way he would be nodding his head in agreement. He would be encouraging and happy that the Kingdom was smoothing over a previous until now rocky relationship with the Spade Kingdom. He would be slapping his hand to Yuno's back in the privacy of their friendship and ribbing him about the wedding night, making lewd and inappropriate jokes. 

-I am not objectional to her as my wife...-

If Asta were a better man, a stronger man, he would be sneaking around with the others from the Black Bulls, planning a bachlor party to rival all bachelor parties ever thrown. He would be slyly dragging Yuno to the best and cleanest brothels so he could 'sow his wild oats' before settling down with a woman he didn't really know, If Asta were a good friend, he would have never allowed himself to develop feelings other than that of a friendly rivalry. If Asta was just .... 

But he isn't.

-I am not objectional to her....-

The reasons Asta had ran to the north were clearcut and many, a list that Asta could spit out in seconds if he were to be asked and he wanted to answer truthfully, but the main reason would always be the same and was the reason he stands here now replaying those words obsessively over and over in his brain. Despite having concluded many, many years ago that he and Yuno would never be what graced his dreams at night, it had helped him keep it together that he had never heard anything out of Yuno's mouth that would be the nail in the proverbial coffin.

-I am not objectionable...-

Within his thoughts he wonders if this is when he will break down and cry like a baby again. Maybe he could make it back to his room at the Black Bulls Headquarters as long as they are dismissed sooner rather than later so he didnt have a seemingly random meltdown in front of all of the other Captains and Co-Captains and Yuno.... Yuno.....

-I am not...-

"....ptain. Captain. Asta!" 

He is going to get whiplash someday is the random thought that shatters his zoning and he blinks his eyes rapidly in order to bring himself back to the present and understand exactly what... or rather who.... is standing directly in front of him, no more than a foot and a half away. The scent of cloves and peppermint choke him and he makes a strangled sound, pupils dialating to tiny pinpricks of black within an ocean of green. 

He's definitely matured well, Asta's weak heart helpfully supplies distractedly as he falls into those pools of gold. Asta can't recall them ever being so bright nor so focused soully on Asta himself. It reminded Asta of the way a Panther would eye it's pray just before pouncing. His skin is somehow still blemish free and milk white, head of black hair braided back to lay draped over one of his shoulders. His sharp jawline compliments the straight rigidness of his thin nose and lips of pale pink are quirked in the oddest of ways that Asta can't really place an emotion to. His long neck is bare, his tapered shoulders draped with a cape of snow white, hood pushed back and lined in the blackest fur Asta has ever seen. Resting there upon his brow, reminding Asta of things he wants to avoid and ignore, is the same circlet that Yuno had received the day he was crowned as Wizard King and Asta almost wants to laugh because -of course- Yuno would never exchange that honor, that crown, with another grander one that would befit the title of an Emperor. 

He's so fucking beautiful and Asta would give up everything for just a taste of him. He'd probably even give his life.... no, there's no probably about it. He would lay out on a sacrificial alter if he could just have Yuno for a single night. One single night. Just once.....

"Are you alright, Asta?" 

Belatedly Asta realizes that its quiet other than the softly asked question. A feeling of apprehension and dread trickles down his spine like freezing water and he takes a slow glance around the throne room like a cornered animal, noting with growing horror that other than himself and Yuno, the room is empty. How long had he been standing in his own little world? How many people had attempted to drag him into awareness? Had Captain... no, had Yami approached him to take him to the Black Bulls Headquarters? Oh god, -Yuno- had seen him like that. Oh god, oh god, he's going to lose it any second because how could he be so stupid? How could he have let himself do------

Everything comes to a screeching halt. His thoughts, his heart, the entire fucking world squealing into a steel wall because Yuno's hand is touching his face. His cheek to be exact, thumb rubbing back and forth across the fullness of the right side, a peculiar tilt to his head and brows drawn down over his eyes which causes the bridge of his nose to scrunch in a way that makes Asta want to lean forward and kiss it. This is it, he thinks to himself as his brain short circuits; This is when I die. 

It's a ridiculous thought to have, he realizes somewhere within his brain. 

He must have made some sort of unconcious response... some sort of questioning noise because all too soon that searing touch is drawing away and those golden eyes release him from the paralysis they had held him in and flick down to stare at the hand he had just pulled away, thumb and forefinger rubbing together slowly. Yuno looks back up, eyes dark and unfathomable. "Asta, why are you crying?"

Asta's own hands fly up to scrub frantically at his face. The slow trail of tears that he hadn't noticed are suddenly the only thing he can focus on. He stumbles back a few steps from Yuno which, from the expression on the other man's face, surprises and alarms him. He takes a step towards Asta again but Asta takes two back for every one of Yuno's.. By some miracle he finds his voice, rough from disuse and tinged with a touch of hysteria, the words stuttering from his mouth faster than he can think them. 

"N-no, your majesty. Your grace? E-excellence? No, I don't know what the right... I-I..... I'm fine. S-sor.. uhm, forgive me, I just have somewhere to be. I'll.. I'll t-take my leave now. Immediately. So, so....." 

Asta can't meet Yuno's eyes again so he covers up his avoidance with a stiff and deep bow to the other man, tongue tasting blood as he bites down on the inside of his cheek. He's turning and striding towards the doors to retreat from his shame before he says anything else ridiculous. He pauses only briefly when Yuno says his name, refusing to look over his shoulder at the other man. When the silence stretches he rolls his shoulders back and clears his throat a few loud times before he can choke out the words. "I really do have to go."

He hears nothing else from Yuno but the back of his neck burns with the awareness of that sharp gaze and he does what he has done best for the past few years...

He walks away.


	7. The Surrender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mistakes are part mine and part the wine. 
> 
> As always, the pugs made me do it.

The rain is like a cleansing of his soul. It falls from the grey weeping sky with pelting drops of punishment that attempt to slip into his nose as he tips his head back and closes his eyes, welcoming the downpour. It's befitting of his mood as bleak and nasty as it is. A flash of lightning cracks across the sky, urging him to blink open his eyes and squint through the rain. A roll of thunder vibrates the air around him. His formalwear clings to every inch of his body, a heavy weight dragging him down with gravity. 

Asta has always loved watching storms. The more violent and loud the better in his mind... a true show from nature that although they may have magic (or in his case none at all, he reflects wryly), but the very world they are surrounded with is dangerous in it's own right... has it's own brand of deadly magic. Asta has always appreciated that dangerous yet beautiful concept; had embraced it even more so with his occupancy of the northern border. In his minds eye he can picture the sprawling mountains covered in thick blankets of snow, the perilous valleys of frozen lakes and rivers, the emptiness of it all. He loved the quiet threat of the north; the promise that if you took one single misstep in your journey the wild would rise up before you could fully stumble and fall and swallow you whole, leaving no sign of your existence ever being there at all. 

The borrowed horse beneath him shifts in protest, snorting as the rain becomes heavier and colder. Taking in a deep inhale to taste the smell of it on the back of his tongue he allows himself to ponder if he will be trekking back towards the Black Bulls Headquarters or not, flipping through handfuls of options that he currently had. He probably shouldn't have.. he knows he shouldn't have, but he had ducked away with the morning light cresting to start the day and had left the Capital. He would probably hear a godawful earful from both Yami and his new Co-Captain Noelle for being absent for the assembly today but he couldn't pull himself into any semblance of 'okay' throughout the night and the other Knights, his squad, and the populace of the Capital didn't need to see the mess that their new Black Bulls Captain is. He had had every intention of refusing the appointment of Captain and option out to be just another foot soldier within the squad so to speak but Yuno addressing the question directly to him had thrown him off of his resolution to say no more than anything else possibly could have.

He shivers as he reins his horse around to head back through the walls surrounding the Capital even as another crack of lightning races across the sky and bathes everything in a momentary flash of white. The horse is a good mount that has been trained to carry regular non-magic as well as wizards into battle so the beast doesn't even flinch though Asta wouldn't have blamed the gelding for doing so. Its thick shoulders roll in front of Asta's thighs, its back muscles shifting it's powerful body forward as it steps out with long, sure legs. His roached mane follows the curved line of his corded neck and Asta absently reaches forward to rub his hand along the right side of it, palm slicking and sleuthing water over it's once gloriously rich chestnut fur that is now tainted nearly black beneath the unrelenting rain. 

As they cross through the southern gate, the one most rarely used by anyone of any status so usually safe from prying eyes, he has a momentary pause as he gazes at the three pronged fork in his pathway. The right would carry him eventually to the Black Bulls Headquarters where he really should head but would have to face the disappointment and disapproval of everyone in his Squad as well as Yami himself. To go straight would take him to the center of the Capital; he can see the spires of the castle even at this distance, spiraling up into the darkly clouded sky. The one to the left..... 

Eye eyeballs the cobbled street sidelong, knowing that he shouldn't. His fingers creak protesting leather as he tightens them within the reins and grinds his teeth. He shakes his head furiously and closes his eyes, rising his right hand still fisted in its rein to smack against his temple a few times as if trying to knock some sense into himself. Nothing good really laid to the left. Well..... nothing good for him personally. He was still dressed within the formal attire of the Black Bulls Squad and there would be no crafty spell casters or potion holders crowding the sides of the streets with carts of goods and services to sell, so he wouldn't even be able to tweak his appearance as he normal would have. He had been so careful over the past few years... tiptoeing around propriety and flirting with discovery every time he allowed himself to fall down the hole when he felt out of control of everything around him.

His chin dips down to his chest and he loosens his grip on the reins, the slack hanging low. His mount chews the bit in appreciation, sopping tail flicking as if to urge him to make whatever decision he is going to make soon so that he can be put up in a nice warm, dry barn with all the hay he could want and a stall all to himself. He slouches a bit, defeated, and leans forward to press his forehead against the animals' withers, breathing in the musky scent unique to the equine family. Since he first rode a horse he has loved that smell. In the town where the Orphanage was located one could often find him curled up in someone's stable, burrowed into the corner of a stall laid heavily with soft straw, a horse standing near him or lying beside him with a velvety nose resting on his side, both snoozing peacefully. He staunchly believed that horses could see into your soul and feel the emotions and torment that roiled within you. He fully believed that horses were wise, timeless animals that saw past what was actually in front of their eyes... wise old souls that were put on the earth to guide and carry those they considered worthy throughout the path of life as protectors, watchers, and helpers. 

A lot of people had given him looks as if he were crazy each time he expressed this belief, raising eyebrows or subtly rolling their eyes when he thought his back was turned. He knows what most people think of horses, and of him, and maybe that's why he feels such a close connection with all of them. There has never been a horse in his life that has caused him harm, left him when he needed them, or attacked him in any way. They only exuded calm and love and understanding and because of that he makes a quick knot of the reins, drops them completely, and reaches down to untie the large flagon strapped to the saddle in front of his left thigh. 

The clear liquor is acid burning down his throat, a few swigs hitting his stomach almost immediately and setting his insides on fire. They sit there for a few minutes, his lips stinging from the harsh bite of alcohol he acquired up north- unsanctioned and highly advised against consuming but oh-so-perfect in every way for him. His fingers gradually start tingling, threatening to go numb, and it's partly because he is cold and wet but mostly because the flagon in his grasp is full of a mixture of berries, honey, some unnamed liquid brewed in the secrets and shadows of the north, and a sprinkle of ground nightlock.. not enough to kill if one kept the consumption to reasonable levels but enough to render your extremities relatively numb and your mind blissfully blank. He sighs heavily, contentedly, and softly pats the side of the horses neck again before whispering quietly to the animal, words drowning in a rumble of angry thunder as he shuts his eyes once more, free hand resting on where he had kissed him. 

He feels the animal vaguely shift, move in a small circle as if eyeballing the three paths as well as the one they had just come from, and then with a small snort and toss of the head the horse is moving, carrying him in whatever direction the animal sees fit. 

Asta doesn't open his eyes to see where they are going, he only secures himself as steady as he can with his numbing thighs and allows himself to be carried along in the nasty storm. He trusted this beautiful creature to take him wherever was best. Afterall, he had asked him to do so.

"Alright. Alright. Please, take me where I need to be."

He would leave the rest up to fate.... or whatever entity it was that guided the equines of this world.... to decide.


	8. The Feeling Of Drowning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one gave me some difficulty, and I am still not completely satisfied with how it turned out honestly. Please feel free to leave your thoughts on it. 
> 
> As always, the Pugs made me do it. All mistakes are mine, though, so there's that.
> 
> Two Feet- I Feel Like I'm Drowning

It shouldn't be a surprise on any level that when the gelding stops moving, head turning slowly to look back at where Asta is slumped in on himself upon his back, but Asta still can't help the wan chuckle that escapes him as he open his cloudy eyes to see where they have ended up. His hair sticks to his forehead and cheeks, partially obscuring his vision along with the still heavily pounding rain, but it wouldn't matter if he was mostly blind and disoriented, he would know what's before him regardless. He chuckles in a dry, mirthless sort of way that turns into actual sadistic humor as he slides out of the saddle and stumbles on his feet, gripping a stirrup to keep him from actually falling over. He goes to take another swig from his trusty travel companion only to find it no longer contains anything within. Chuckling still (why is he still laughing? There's absolutely nothing funny about this at all), he presses his forehead against the horse's still turned face, his forehead pressing up against a wet and cold nose, rainwater and sweat mingling in between his trembling lips.

He's tired. So very tired. With one last huff in the parody of a chuckle he pats the horse between its eyes and allows the much younger boy that has appeared at his side to take the animal in the direction of the massive stables, the slow clip clop of hooves drawing further away and taking a piece of the shaky control he holds on himself. He doesn't turn fully around until he can no longer see them and it's a chore to make his feet obey him. He stumbles again regardless and his numb fingers lose the barely there grip on the flagon and it hits the ground with a wet thump that goes completely unnoticed because Asta is focused on something else entirely. Something that -has- been able to shock him even as slow as his thought process is slow to kick into gear.

Asta can't recall a single moment in time he's seen this particular expression on Yuno's face and maybe that's the reason he can't place it. Yuno's hair defies the rain even as it falls down upon him, sticking up in a disarray that Asta knows from their younger years before Yuno started harnessing his emotions and his reactions to them, comes from Yuno running his hands through and ruffling the locks back and forth in agitation. His face, while normally pale in general, seems almost ashen and making his dark furrowed brows even more prominent. He's dressed in a way that would be considered scandalous for him to be seen in public wearing; the white button up long sleeved shirt is left untied and open, leaving a vertical strip of his chest and abdomen on display... though really, as drenched as it already is, one would have to be blind not to be able to see the skin beneath the clinging fabric. Asta's eyes unconsciously follow that path, the Nightlock brew giving him a sort of freedom he has never allowed him to indulge in, gaze alighting on the low lying waistband of what Asta is pretty certain is cotton lounge trousers that cling just as tightly to his legs due to the rain as his shirt and then a bit further down to see.... 

Bare feet?

Asta's breath hitches and that darkness in the back of his mind purrs out, his helplessly filthy heart daring to whisper that he should be on the ground in front of Yuno, worshiping the high arches of his feet and well kept toes with his tongue. Yuno's squinted eyes, not quite a glare but something close, meet his own when he looks back up and Yuno tilts his chin in a peculiar motion that reminds Asta of a bird before angling his body towards the open doorway behind him, the warm glow spilling out into the night to halo his body promising warmth and comfort while simultanously leering at him in personification of a particularly well hidden trap. Because Asta is numb, cold, wet, and so very -done,- he moves like a man posessed, booted feet squelching as climbs the stairs, shadowed eyes hawk like between Yuno's shoulder blades as the other man turns away to lead him silently through the castle. They leave a heavy trail of water in their wake but neither of them seem to care. Asta's steps are sluggish and heavy whereas Yuno's bare feet make no sound at all. Asta won't be able to retrace his steps whenever he leaves because the sway of Yuno's shoulders as he walks has him hypnotized in a way that makes him feel like a snake weaving in front of a charmer with a flute, a dangerous and thrilling type of entertainment he had come across on one of the many streets he wandered while in the North. 

There's a Knight standing at the open door of an otherwise empty corridor. Yuno passes without any acknowledgement, disappearing within the room and allowing Asta a moment of clarity. Noelle. Noelle is standing there at the doorway, her stare heavy and smothering. Asta reverses his forward trajectory in a very sharp and abrupt about-face that causes him to teeter off balance, but he draws up sharply and stock still other than the tremors running through his arms and legs. Something so small shouldn't be able to stop him but the sight of Sylph fluttering in midair, wings beating in a far more agitated manner than the situation calls for and small hands planted firmly on her hips, glaring at him with all the annoyance that her tiny body can hold forces him to turn back around again. He's dizzy with it all but manages to maneuver his way past Noelle and into the room as well, startling badly when she closes the door forcefully behind him though not entering herself. 

He faintly notes that he is standing within a fairly large bedroom full of lush carpets of fur, a larger than necessary hand carved and polished four poster bed settled off to the left side piled neatly with pillows and thick blankets, doors to his right that lead to god knows where. Directly in front of him, though, Yuno stands before a ridiculously large stone fireplace where crackling flames send off comfortable heat that Asta can feel all the way by the door. His first step towards Yuno is halting but the liquid courage thrumming through his body, literally half poisoning him into complacency, drives him the rest of the way until he is right up behind him, barely two feet from the other man. He's finding it hard to breath, his head light and chin tucked down even as his eyes look up at Yuno from beneath his lashes and dripping hair that has slid once more infront of his face. The silence is disturbed only by the occasional pop and crackle from the fire and it makes Asta feel, quite accurately in an ironic sort of way, like some shadowy wisp of a demon hovering as he is in Yuno's literal shadow cast from the firelight. Asta's fingers twitch in well honed restraint as his tongue runs out along his bottom lip, tendrils of that ever present darkness sliding over and around his conciousness, lapping at his dwindling control and delighting in the distress it causes him. 

Yuno turns in the same way he does everything; deliberately and elegantly. Asta's chin is tilting up and back without his consent, hungrily eyeing the slender expanse of Yuno's neck and struggling so that he doesn't lean forward to lick the bead of water trailing downward. Up close, even closer than the last time, Yuno's jawline is as sharp as carved stone and his lips are turning a delicious looking apple red as the heat from the fire begins to work on warming him up. He has the sort of face that is beautiful from afar and flawless up close and makes people want to fall over themselves trying to get a taste, wanting to be able to claim that for themselves. And oh, does Asta -want.- 

Yuno's eyes are feverish looking, though Asta won't remember thinking so until much later than this. The iris is a burning halo of fire in it's own right and Asta is helpless against them... he always has been, really. Maybe that's why when Yuno wordlessly reaches out to start carefully peeling away Asta's coat and shirt he lacks the ability to say or do anything more than weakly follow each nudge and tug of Yuno's deft fingers. His world, as unsteady as it already is, quakes dangerously beneath him as Yuno's hands splay over his chest to slide up towards his shoulders and guide Asta's shirt down his arms unil it smacks heavily against a steadily growing pile of other saturated clothing. Asta, bare from the waist up now, feels unsettlingly naked though his pants and shorts are still on. 

Yuno is still so very quiet and unsettlingly unreadable as he reaches behind him to pluck a large towel from a stand just to the side of the fireplace. He stares at it for a moment as if in contemplation and then meets Asta's eyes as he comes to some sort of conclusion. Asta can see it within the set of his jaw and the way his shoulders square off as if he is bracing himself for some sort of blow. Asta watches in slightly horrified disbelief as Yuno, the Emperor to the Clover Kingdom and Magic King whose very presence commands respect and reverance, lowers himself until hes on his knees infront of Asta who has a momentary blast of panic as an irrational part of his brain tries to convince him that Yuno must be some sort of mind reader. Asta can't hold back the flinch of his stomach as Yuno reaches out with the towel to begin to dry him off. The heat has flushed Yuno's cheeks an attractive shade of rose as he continues to diligently dry Asta off. He could have done it with his magic, Asta knows, and wonders about the lack of its utilization.

Then all of his focus and attention is desperately directed towards keeping his lower half under feeble control bacause Yuno's fingers deftly undo and slide under the waistband of his pants, dragging them down to Asta's ankles before he works to free them, taking water logged boots and socks with them. Asta's vision blackens around the edges as he looks down at Yuno's wet head of hair, the towel rough feeling against his suddenly overly sensitive skin. His mind is blissfully silent for the first time in a long time, though at the price of every part of his body visibly trembling. If he had thoughts to spare he knows he would be exceedingly embarrassed and comically comfused but as it is he feels nothing at all which is in itself a very dangerous place for him to be. The dark flash of a shark-sharp smile hovers there just behind his eyes which, unbeknowest to him, have begun to bleed crimson starting from the pupil and extending outwards in thin bolts of lightning shaped crimson. A detached feeling of amused triumph thrums somewhere just behind his wildly galloping heart, apart of him and yet not his at all. 

Curling his fingers into quivering fists is suddenly easy as pinpricks break out within his flesh, the feeling quite similar to the way it feels when a foot has 'fallen asleep' and is 'waking up.' Yuno works his way upwards again, leaning closer and balancing on the balls of his feet and knees as he reaches around Asta's flexing thighs, breath whisper-soft over Asta's goose pimpled skin just below the hem of his damp boxers. Asta feels his shoulders tensing and rising up towards his shoulders and vaguely tries to remind himself to -breathe, damnit,- which is seemingly becoming rather impossible to do. Yuno's head is turned slightly to the right when he flicks his gaze upwards to peer through his lashes at Asta's face. What little oxygen Asta has been able to suck in leaves him in a loud woosh, feeling as if he's just been slugged in the chest by a well aimed blow. Asta wonders in an unhinged sort of way, the question flickering through his otherwise empty brain before being consumed by that growing darkness, what it is that Yuno sees as they stare at each other. 

The fluidity in the way Yuno stands up, lean body unfurling like some sort of blooming flower or the way that waves round out before cresting, brings them within inches of each other. Asta finds his eyes leveled with Yuno's sharply defined chin, the fullness of Yuno's lower lip doing very little to help Asta's bodily control. The towel is draped over his dripping hair and left there as Yuno slides around and behind him, leaving a small gathering of water from his own drenched clothing and Asta's heap. The flames wave at him from where they dance in the fireplace, distracting him for just long enough for him to jerk when Yuno's hands (suddenly feeling frigid against his smoldering shoulderblades) smooth out to rest beneath Asta's biceps, curling around them to pull Asta's arms backwards where he slips the arms of a silk robe over them, the cool fabric settling over his shoulders. Still from behind and hidden from Asta's rounded eyes Yuno wraps the sides of the too long robe around Asta's midsection, keeping them closed with a matching sash that's tied quickly into a bow. The scent of Yuno is rising off of the robe and Asta takes an unconciously deep breath, tasting it even on the back of his tongue. With that invasion his mind begins to clear, the darkness receeding ever so slightly, the brief sense of petulance quick to flare and even quicker to fade, the jagged edges fading into something a bit softer and less threatening. A soft yet insistant tug against his wrist makes him turn around and Yuno is standing there in a similar robe and still staring at Asta in a way that he doesn't understand. He must have used his wind magic to dry himself, and as he pulls the towel off of where it has stayed untouched ontop of Asta's head, Asta feels the caress of magic agianst him, his hair suddenly dry as well. 

Then he's being led over to one side of the bed and urged within the confines of the heavy blankets, Yuno taking a moment to brush some of Asta's hair off of his forehead before moving to the other side of the bed and crawling in as well. Since Asta is laying on his back he turns his head to stare blankly at Yuno who lies on his side facing Asta, one hand tucked up underneath the pillow his head rests on. When Yuno reaches out underneath the weight of the blankets so that his fingers find and trail down the length of Asta's forearm, Asta is unable to help the way he finally loses the tentative control over his body he has kept up until this point, blood rushing south and filling him up slowly with a lazy sort of urgency and he can only be thankful that Yuno can't see it happening. His lids are feeling heavy despite his body's interest and he struggles to keep them open but is failing in spectacular fashion. Yuno shifts closer, hand glancing off of Asta's hipbone in a way that might have been accidental and might not have been, but Asta is far gone now, drifting in that interesting place he balances on sometimes where he's half awake and yet half dozing, aware of things around him, eyes even occasionally blinking open. It is in that state that Yuno's voice finally reaches out between them, as thick as honey and sounding just as sweet, the words burrowing themselves into Asta's sleep addled brain. 

The command itself doesn't surprise him at all even delivered as it is in such a soft atmosphere that's tinged with something heavier, with Asta's head filled with very indecent ideas towards their current situation. Asta turns his heavy head to face the ceiling once more, wavering in between indignate hurt and wry mirth even as runs his tongue over his lips. He gives a hiccup of a laugh before answering as he rolls so his back is facing Yuno, that relentless hand following him still to run down his spine and wreak havoc on his fragile emotional state. He drifts off quickly regardless of his inner turmoil and warring desire, dreams full of impossibilities that feature dark hair, entertwining bodies, and golden eyes full of passion. 

"You'll be the one I send to the border for the Princess, Asta," echoes the Yuno within his dreamscape, a mockery of a smile curling his lips as Asta's dream-self bows up beneath him on a strangled cry. "You're the only one I trust fully to do so," Yuno says as he wraps his hands around the back of Asta's knees, pushing his thighs towards his chest as he sinks in, teeth bared in a viciously hungry smile. 

And Asta, taking and taking and taking, feeling as if he's been thrown into the ocean without a way to swim, drowns in Yuno the way he always does within his nightly delusions. He answers on every moan, the same breathy reply over and over again, until he's waking in the morning to an empty room and a dying fire."

"I will for you, Yuno."


	9. The Principal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, but had to get it out to move things along. 
> 
> As always, the Pugs made me do it.

When Asta and the Knights who had been chosen after volunteering for escort duty left the palace, it was with the Emperor standing at the very top of the stairs leading to the grand front entrance, Nozel Silva at his left shoulder just behind him, and Klaus to his right. He was once more dressed in regalia befitting his station, spine straight and shoulders back proudly. The sun hangs low in the sky, still rising to its midday peak, and the brightness of it makes the silver circlet upon his head flash and the imbedded jewels glitter. Asta cannot see the gold of his eyes, as far as he is away from him and sitting upon the same horse that had trod through the rain and brought him here, but by the way Yuno's chin tilts slightly up he can tell that Yuno is surveying their relatively small party down the length of his straight nose. The ghost of a remembered touch across his spine makes him look away to the side, teeth clenching. All in all there is six of them, most higher ranking than what would normally be set out on an escorting mission, but Asta isn't surprised seeing as who they are supposed to be meeting at the border and bringing back. Yuno's voice is amplified by magic in some way because although he does not raise his voice to shout, his words carry to them all regardless.

"This journey will be an easy and simple one, although long in duration. I have the utmost confidence that you shall make it to and from the border in a fast, efficient manner while keeping the Princess happy and comfortable.." Here he pauses, a small breeze shifting his cloak. He tilts his head ever so slightly to his left, consideringly, and then continues. "Captain Asta has full authority to act in my name, and his word shall be treated as if coming directly from myself." 

It takes every iota of control to keep from jumping and gaping at the pronouncement but Asta manages, thighs clutching tighter to his horses' barrel and making the animal shift with an equine grumble of annoyance. 

"That being said, I wish you all a safe journey and will personally greet you upon your return to the Capital. Good luck." 

There is a moment where Asta considers looking back towards Yuno because he swears he can feel that heavy gaze directed towards himself but he gives a small bow instead and directs the gelding around to begin the journey towards the Northern gates of the City, murmuring an apology to Glee and easing up on his leg locked death grip. The others fall in behind him, double stacked, the multitude of clip-clopping hooves echoing off the roads and sides of buildings. Townsfolk watch them eagerly, knowing that soon they will be returning with the woman who is to be their future Queen and eager to catch a glimpse of her. The tales of her beauty have reached far and wide, afterall, and Asta already hates her for it. 

The next handful of days passes as it normally does while on a journey; some days seeming long and endless while others end too soon and cause frustration. The horses are strong and quick, though, so within a week and a half of camping out and trudging along they reach their final destination without much difficulty other than a single horse having to be traded out when it injured its leg after bumbling a jump over a stream. Asta is sweaty and dirty by the time he draws his horse up to the designated meeting area, dull green eyes sweeping across the forest clearing with a detached curiosity. This is perhaps the only region that Asta has never personally seen since it had no towns for too many miles in either direction, which made it the ideal place to handle a delicate crossing such as this one. 

He is wiping his face with a water drenched cloth when the tell tale creaking of a carriage's wheels being pulled over uneaven terrain steals his attention, gaze wearily watching as an ornate 4-horse is pulled through the trees following along a narrow roadway, four monstrous horses pulling it, a strange combination where two are as black as the darkest night and two the color of snow. They are slightly wild eyed and fidgety, but stop on command from their driver and although their muscles shiver in anticipation they stand eerily still, ears pricked straight up and forward, necks vertical and froth dripping from their lips. Asta eyeballs them for a moment from where he stands beside his own chestnut mount, patting him on the neck absently, before walking forward alone to meet with a rather tall man that dismounts from a stocky, long legged horse unlike Asta had ever seen; it's fur was longer and hooves shaped in a three clover design the size of meat platters. The man is older than Asta by probably 25-30 years but still corded with muscle as most Knights normally are, and he holds a heavy lined face turned downwards in a frown as his mud brown eyes assess Asta, clean shaven head twitching back and forth as he makes a disgusted sound before speaking. 

"So this is the best party your King could put together to meet his future Queen, is it? It shouldn't surprise me, coming from this rat-hole of a Kingdom." The man hocks and spits from the side of his mouth, the thick glob landing just inches from Asta's foot. He feels his irritation and indignation flare (who is this asshole to speak like that of the Clover Kingdom? Of -Yuno-??) and he narrows his eyes, a flare of red dancing across his vision and although the man does not step back he must have seen it too because he squares off his own shoulders and scowls uneasily down at Asta who, mild as milk, answers back. 

"That would be -Emperor- Yuno to you, I think," He makes sure to put heavy Emphasis on the title, since it's the only of it's kind in any of the Kingdoms since the rest still adhere to the dual-King system that the Clover Kingdom has thrown away. The taller man curls his upper lip in a sneer but does not respond to the jibe, choosing instead to motion towards the Carriage sitting behind him.

"The Princess wishes to meet with Captain Asta, the Knight in charge of this escort, if you wouldn't mind running along and relaying that message to him so that we can get this over with and be on our way." He makes a shooing motion with his fingers, practically snarling, and Asta raises both of his brows up so they practically disappear behind the hair falling across his forehead, somewhat because of the man's audacity but mostly because he asked for Asta by title and name which he shouldn't have known unless.... Asta takes a deep breath and releases it slowly, counting to three.... unless Yuno had known he would be sending Asta himself before he even made the announcement to all of the other Knights. It makes Asta want to punch a hole through the nearest tree but he refrains, returning the mans nastiness with a mocking half-smile and spread hands. 

"Asta, Captain of the Black Bulls Squad, at your service. I would be thrilled to meet with your Princess, if you would check to make sure she is ready." 

Asta has the momentary satisfaction of watching disbelief and annoyance distort that donkey shaped face before the man turns on his heel and stalks back towards the carriage where a soft knock and an exchage of murmured words through the curtained windows has him plucking open the door and reaching out with a hand to balance the descent of the Princess as she exits the Carriage. 

If Asta didn't hate her already on general principle, he would for no other reason than he's dismayed to find that the tales of her beauty were not stretches of imagination but actual truth, and it makes his stomach roll unpleasantly. She is wrapped in long velvet and lace swaths of sparkling dark navy fabric that swish as she steps onto the ground and straightens up, her height putting her at Yuno's own in Asta's estimation. When she draws back the wide cowl of the hood covering her head and face the other Knights gathered behind him either inhale sharply or stop breathing altogether and Asta is begrudgingly understanding of their need to do so. Hair as fine as the most delicately spun silk and the color of starlight tumbles down from her shoulders and curls over her chest all the way down to her slender waist, small braided sections mingling within and weaved with light grey owl feathers and silver beads. Wrapped around her head and dipping between her slender brows to accenuate her olive tanned skin lays an opal and crystal bindi style raindrop that moves as she does. The sound of small bells accompanies her as she glides fluidly forward towards Asta, dark khol lining what Asta sees up close are glacier blue eyes, full lips like a cupids bow colored dark to match the shimmering shadow dusted over her eyelids. Asta clenches his hands together tightly behind his back so that the tension in them cannot be seen and he pastes a blandly polite if strained smile on his own face as she comes to a stop before him, a respectable distance away and yet close enough to bring her cloyingly honey-suckle and and cedar sent over to choke him. The Knights behind him seem to lean forward towards her whereas he tries his best to not lean back away, shoulders tightening as she brings her hands together in front of her in a dainty way, pressing her smooth palms together and bringing her forefingers up to rest against the front of her chin as she tucks her chin minutely. Her wide sleeves slide down her slender arms to show off delicate bangles of silver around her wrists and dark lines painted from the backs of her hands in an ivy like pattern to reach down her forearms all the way to her elbows. \

He has to look up to meet her cool gaze, obviously, and it grinds against his nerves to have to do so. They stand there for a moment staring at each other and Asta gets the feeling that she is measuring him in some sort of way that he doesn't completely understand and, if he is honest, doesn't care about. Her eyes squint just barely, enough to show some sort of displeasure. When she speaks her voice is low and seductive, tongue curling around words in an accent that Asta has never heard before and sounds exotic enough for Asta to hate it, too. 

"In my Kingdom, all those not of royal blood are to bow before those who are." 

The words are delivered without inflection though her eyes are filled with distaste as she sweeps them down and up along his form again. There is a beat of silence and an even longer beat of something else, and that darkness lurking in the back of Asta's mind slams forward against his barriers, slobbering and snapping like a rabid animal. He locks down on it hard, shoving a metaphorcal muzzle over the gnashing mouth, and continues to smile in that detached way that he knows pisses most people off when they attempt to rile him up. The annoyance that darts over her pretty face makes him inwardly preen. 

"I apologize, Princess, but customs here are quite a bit different, as you will come to learn," he can't help the subtle jab at her ignorance of the Clover Kingdom and the new customs that have come along in hand with Yuno being crowned as the Emperor. He widens his eyes innocently just so, smile faltering just briefly as he then offers her a contrite facade. "I will endeavor to make you more comfortable on the journey back to the Captial until you are able to meet with the King's advisors and the tutors that he has arranged for you so that you may learn our ways. Are you needing to stretch your legs and rest, or may we continue forward? The seasonal storms should be arriving within the next week and I would like to make as much progress as we can before they hit, if you are agreeable. Yuno, ah, the Emperor is looking forward to our return." 

The lanky Knight who had been so rude to Asta from the get go scrunches up his face and takes a menacing step towards Asta but he halts quickly as the Princess drops her hands away from her face to hold one just barely off to her side in front of him, her features smoothing out to emotionless again, her gaze now strangely calculating. One side of her lips quirk wryly and she turns back towards her carriage, taking bells and sweet smells and coldness with her. "Continuing on would please me greatly, Knight. Do not worry about stopping on my behalf." She pauses halfway into the carriage, throwing an amused glance over her shoulder that makes Asta mentally stumble. "I am excited to meet my future husband, afterall." With the emphasis on husband, she draws her hood back over her head and disappears inside, the door silently shutting behind her. 

Asta seeths internally even ten minutes later when he launches onto Glee's back, blood boiling and darkness howling inside of him. He sharply yanks on the reins, jerking the gelding's head around and giving the signal to move out. He nudges the horse into a smooth trot beside the carriage as they surround it in tight formation, refusing to look to his right every time he sees the flutter of the curtains drawing back. 

He hated her on principal before, and now he just hates her.


	10. The Place to Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Pugs made me do it, don't hate me. 
> 
> Or well, don't hate them. You can hate me, that's acceptable. I still love you all, regardless. :) 
> 
> Halsey- Badlands, Castle  
Lorde- Everybody Wants to Rule the World  
Emily Browning- Sweet Dreams  
Imagine Dragons- Believer  
Blue Foundation- Eyes On Fire (Brooklyn Version Instrumental)
> 
> Eh, if you don't particularly like refrences to 'kinky' things, you may wanna skip the end of this chapter? Maybe? See AN at the end before reading if you are adverse to certain... things.

Asta was only mildly surprised when they reached the Capital (in shorter of a time than it took them to make it to the border) to see the walls of the Capital sporting tall flagpoles baring the Emperor's insignia flapping in the air. There are more guards stationed along the top in a show of power, all dressed in clean uniforms and holding various different well cared-for weapons as well as Grimoires floating at their sides. Asta almost wants to roll his eyes but refrains simply because he can see the curtains of one window parted just so again and can feel a cold gaze spearing through him. Even after the days of traveling with the same feeling he has yet to get used to it and he feels very badly for Glee's mouth where the bit has been digging into his tongue and the corners of his mouth as Asta's temper radiates down the reins to the bridle. He will make sure that the gelding is healed properly, first thing, and fed as many carrots and apples as he can get his hands on in apology. He has always loathed any unkindness towards animals and is unhappy that his fraying temper has been the cause of any pain or discomfort to one. 

The street is lined with people waving light blue and white pieces of fabric excitedly, loud cheers and laughter and whistles making it hard to hear anything else. Asta is distinctly aware of the way his hair hangs limp around his head and the aching in his hips from non-stop riding. His eyes are gritty with the need to sleep, his skin waxy and wan. The only thing that has kept him going has been the thought that he could retreat to the Black Bulls Headquarters for some much needed rest and very much needed space from the future Queen. They had not exchanged any words since the very first day, as stilted as that had been, and he is glad for it. He has had no desire whatsoever to get to know her or spend any prolonged time in her presence. In fact, his skin is crawling even now as he knows she is right there... right inside that carriage, right behind that curtain eyeballing him every now and then, right there... right there... right in range to....(Yessss, yes. She's right there. She's so close, all you have to do is let go. All you have to do is leave it to me and I'll take care of her and you never have to worry about her again. All you have to do is let go. Let go. Let GO! LET G-)

"Asta!" 

He snaps back outside of his head so abruptly he is momentarily disoriented. The heat of a hand against his calf forces his sluggish brain to tell his eyes to look down, and there.. there. Vividly blazing gold is there, anchoring him back into the present and the steel door within his mind clangs loudly as it shuts, silence a beautiful reprieve as he stares unblinkingly down at Yuno. At some point the procession has brought them before the palace, before the -Emperor,- and instead of being aware of it he had been swimming through the toxic tar that waits in his mind. He had almost given into the promises, the sound of a world where he could go back to pretemding at night that he could even -be- tangled up in bedsheets with the only person he had ever wanted, because there would not be someone... there would not be a Kingdom, or Titles, or Power Gaps, or a -fucking woman- standing in betweem himself and....

Fingers slide down and squeeze his ankle to bring him back -again- and he gives his head a little shake and focuses on Yuno's blank face. Most people would see a level of reprimand there, perhaps disappointment, but Asta and Yuno have known each other for so long that the shine of worry is easy to read behind that gaze. Asta offers a lopsidedly weak smile, attention half on the hand touching him and half on the sound of the door to the Carriage opening behind him. He hops from the saddle in as graceful a manner as he can (which is not graceful at all, thank you very much) and hands the reins of the gelding to the stable hand waiting for him. He softly instructs the boy on what to do (the same one from so many nights ago in the rain? Maybe, with the way the younger lad is staring at him), and then waits as the horse is led away and the carriage door shuts again. He waits with his eyes locked with Yuno's as the sound of soft footfalls draw closer. He waits, nose taking deep inhales of clover unique to Yuno until its overpowered by that ridiculously -fucking disqusting piece of..- 

His thoughts are wrangled again by Yuno's hand clasping his forearm and pulling him a step closer, something unfathomably intense lingering in his eyes, and Asta rolls his shoulders up and back in sync with his head and neck, feeling the coldness lingering just behind and off to the side of him and his mouth splits in an almost bloodthirsty grin that makes Yuno blink rapidly. He takes a step back even though he longs for the continued contact between them and makes the deepest most exaggerated bow that he can to Yuno, his back practically horizontal with the ground. He can almost hear that beanpole Knight of the Princess' grinding his teeth because of it, and because of the slight he registers towards his Princess from days ago when they first met. He holds there for a bit longer than necessary (since bowing to Yuno has never been called upon by anyone), before uprighting himself once more and half turning towards the Princess and her Knight, eyes still locked on Yuno's as he forces his own face to clear once more into passive boredom, voice even and slow. 

"Emperor Yuno, King of Wizards, may I present to you your future bride Princess Lunary Spade. The journey from the border has been long and we have not paused for much rest along the way. I imagine the Princess would be thankful to be shown to her quarters so that she may rest and relax. I am happy to report that there were no complications along the way." Asta pauses, the question hovering within Yuno's eyes left unanswered as he backs up again, motioning towards the Princess and her Knight in a vague manner before bowing with just his head, still peering up through his lashes at Yuno. "I beg that the men of the Party and myself be allowed to disperse and rest as well. A good three solid days should be adequate to restore their energy and health, if it would please you." 

He wonders briefly if he has laid it on a little too thick as Yuno's eyes dart along his face. Whatever Yuno decides, however, he nods briefly at Asta and, shock of all shocks, bows his own head in respect in return, something that Asta is pretty sure he has never done to anyone else. 

"Very well, Captain. Please, take these men and yourself and enjoy the rest you have earned. Be sure to report back to me four days from now for a more thoroughly debriefing and for your next assignment." 

Asta schools his features for the half a second more it takes for him to turn the rest of the way to his left, putting his back to Yuno and allowing his green eyes to clash with icy blue for just a moment enough to see the ire within them before he makes a quick departure. He does not look back, does not question the prevailing silence between the future bride and groom, and does ridiculously well at ignoring lick of flames and the kiss of ice between his shoulderblades. He tells himself that it doesn't matter, that nothing does, and shoving all that he is, all that makes him Asta, to the side as brings forth the shell he has formed to hide away, spelled potion sliding thick down the back of his throat as he rounds the corner to that place he flirted with going to in the rain. The place where nothing good longterm rested. The place where he has to shed his Black Bulls attire and shove into his travel pack, black trousers and thin grey undershirt blending in to the crowd. 

The place where days of travel grit and dingy boots don't matter. The place where another face in the crowd is nothing special. The place where coins pass hands in payment for food, alcohol, and sex. The place where Asta, weaving through the tables and rounding the bar to swipe a glass of dark liquor to down, can lose himself and it not matter. The place where is is nobody. The place where he can shoulder through a door separating the common area from something else, something darker and forbidden and hidden; known about but not spoken about. 

A place where he can wordlessly strip his shirt and leave it lying on the floor somewhere behind him as he sinks heavily to his knees, relishing in the sharp pain that lances through his legs. A place where his eyes are blinded by a strip of fabric knotted behind his head. A place where rough hands can grab him by the back of his neck and force him to bend over a backless bench centered in the middle of the room. A place where he he can grab the legs of said bench and dig his fingers in against scarred wood in anticipation, where his skin can flush red in eager excitement. A place where his knees can be nudged forcefully apart, where his head is wrenched back painfully by his wild hair. 

A place where stroke after stroke of leather leaves burning welts actoss his shoulders, his back, his hips. A place he only goes when the other part of him, that dark part that hovers just so, threatens to swallow him whole. 

A place where, torso decorated with swollen red lines and eyes still blindfolded and body contorted in ways that are painfully wonderful, unknown hands and lips and teeth and tongues can drown out reality and leave him weak and shaking and begging for more... broken and gasping and reaching in his mind for the memory of Yuno on his knees before him, rubbing hands along him, breathing words along his skin. 

They never talk at this particular place, the men, and that makes it better. Easier. 

Easier to let himself imagine. Easier to avoid thinking about the future wedding, and the wedding night. The wedding night where....

His back arches with a lick of fire dancing across it, leather strap sliding down his sweaty heaving sides, and he lets go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to whipping/pain in sexual encounters. So, yeah. Don't read past when Asta leaves the palace. Kthanx.


	11. The Hiccup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, the Pugs made me do it. 
> 
> Two Feet- Love is A Bitch  
Marian Hill- Down  
SYML- Mr. Sandman  
Jem- 24

It's nearing the morning of the last day that Asta has off when Noelle, the only person in the world who knows Asta as well as Yuno (probably better than, at this point actually) barrels into his room at the Black Bulls Headquarters. He wonders vaguely if there's something he has forgotten to do that would have put that angry look on her face she has directed his way but he distinctly remembers finishing all of his paperwork late last night and placing the completed and signed documents on her desk for perusal and filing. He takes a moment to go through his mental checklist, pursing his lips as he struggles up into a sitting position on his bed, sheets pooling down around his naked lap. He scratches the side of his head vacantly, rapidly blinking at her as she fills the doorway in all of her seething rage. Of course it's that exact moment in time that a large hand slides up his bent knee to rest on his thigh, distracting him momentarily as he turns his eyes down to look at the sleepy face of the man beside him, long black hair tousled and full bottom lip red and swollen from Asta's vicious teeth throughout the night. Asta's heart skips a beat at the eye, such a light hazel brown they are -almost- just right, and his mind clicks back into place as memories neatly pile themselves in his brain. 

Asta had brought someone back with him from a tavern. 

Asta had brought someone back with him from a tavern. 

Asta had -brought someone back- with -HIM- from a tavern. 

The real him. His real face, his real name, his real room within the Black Bulls Headquarters.

There's a surreal moment in time where he wants to laugh because after so many years, how has he stumbled and made it to this point? A man, slightly older than him if Asta has to guess, with long black hair and honey colored eyes watching him from where he lay on one of Asta's many pillows. Staring straight at him with that sort of satisfied smile that makes Asta unconciously begin to catalogue his own body. With such awareness comes that burn he has only ever been able to associate with particularly rough sex, the tenderness of bruises littering his neck and chest and... his thighs? His ass cheeks? His fucking feet, really? Lifting up the blanket to glance down at his right foot he notes absently that, yes, he's pretty sure thats a hicky ringed with teeth marks just over the arch of his foot. He's still blinking at it when Noelle apparently loses her temper standing at the door, her words gritted out from her semi-locked jaw and her hand almost standing on end as she glares at him. 

"Did you seriously oversleep and blow off a meeting -with the EMPEROR?-" she whisper yells at him, her face slowly turning an frankly alraming shade of red. Asta blinks slowly now, confused. It wasn't until tomorrow that he had to go to the Palace, right? He distincly remembers Yuno saying... saying..... 

Nightlock was involved last night, his mind supplies unhelpfully. The actual leaves, he remembers, honeyed eyes hovering close to his own as fingers feed a strip of it into his mouth to suck on, hips pressing together and his world tipping dangerously. He had rocked up onto the balls of his feet he remembers now, desperately trying to escape the fact that he would most likely have to see Yuno and Lunary side by side. Desperate enough to place his lips to the shell of a round ear to beckon the man back to his room with promises of freedom to do as the man pleased to him. He had eagerly accepted what the other man wanted, anything and everything, blood tainting both of their tongues as they kissed...

They had -kissed.-

The memory physically jolts him and the man beside him allows his smile to grow lecherous, fingers dancing inwards and questing for his slight morning erection as if he has not a single care in the world that there is a very pissed off woman standing in the doorway. A very pissed off Co-Captain of the Black Bulls standing in the doorway looking as if she's a volcano that's two seconds away from exploding after years of lying dormant. The man shifts closer, tongue flicking out to trace one of the darker bite marks marring the skin over one of his ribs, causing Asta's breath to hitch at the feeling. 

He had brought this man -home.- This man whose name he can't remember but whose face and eyes and hair are so, so achingly close to being familiar that Asts's whole body is begging for him to roll ontop of him and sink down and -ride- him because..... because.... (Honeyed eyes are sympathetic as they stare at him as he sits in the man's lap, legs wrapped around his waist and heels planted against the mattress so that he has leverage to roll his hips and take the man deeper, chests pressed together and hands locked behind the man's neck. It's the third time in as many hours that he has found himself impaled here, sweat slicking both of their foreheads and breathing erratic. The man leans back and shifts so that he can thrust up into Asta harder and deeper, eyes never leaving his face and not even getting angry when Asta gasps out the wrong name against his lips. Taking it in stride, encouraging it even, he milks Asta over and over again until there's nothing left and then he takes his own pleasure, quick and hard and unforgiving as he whispers sweet words, mean words, words that mean nothing into Asta's ears) ... because.... because Yuno....

"No need to chastise him, Noelle. I can see that he has been quite busy. There's no surprise that the meeting simply skipped his mind."   
Because Yuno is.. here? 

Asta's heart stops beating altogether, he's sure, and the man licking his side stills as well. Asta turns his head slowly, comically slowly if there was anything funny about this at all, and feels the color draining from his face as Noelle moves hastily to the side to allow Yuno to step into the doorway, passively deadpan eyes meeting Asta's suddenly terrified ones. There's that wooshing within his ears again, a tunami of sound not allowing him to hear anything else being said although he does faintly note the man he brought back for the night   
has maneuvered off of the bed to get dressed. Asta says nothing to him as he quickly leaves the room without saying anything at all that Asta is aware of, followed quickly by Noelle who shuts the door behind her as she leaves too. Asta is starting to feel light headed from the lack of oxygen, mortification filling him quickly. 

Yuno does not look at him immediately and chooses instead to walk around the perimeter of the room, skirting around Asta's bed, hands loosely clasped behind his back and long braid dangling down his back. The circlet is perched upon his brow and from this close Asta can make out an ivy pattern engraved on it (how fucking ironic, yuck), and Asta eyes the black jewels if only to avoid having to look Yuno in the eye when he reaches out with long fingers skimming across rumpled blankets as he rounds the foot of the bed. Asta has a momentary urge to cover himself up but, no, that would be weird at this point, wouldn't it? But he suddenly feel the dried lubricant and flaking cum across his abdomen, and that makes him even more mortified. 

Yuno draws even with his right arm, fingers of his right hand pausing and Asta clenches the blankets so tightly in his hands that rest on either side of his hips against the bed that the muscles and veins in his forearms stick out noticeably. From the corner of his eyes he can see that Yuno is still not looking at him, choosing instead studying the blank wall he is turned towards. Asta draws his knees up towards his chest and rounds out his back, chin coming close to resting on the peaks. He feels inexplicably young and chastised, even though Yuno has yet to say anything to him. 

"In the first few months after being crowned the Wizard King, I would come here," Yuno mumbles distractedly, his tongue wetting the bottom of his lip as he visibly falls back into memories. "I had the title already, but Julius stayed with me for quite some time. I had to learn everything he knew, afterall, and I was lacking in many ways... most of them how to engage in proper conversations with those whose favor I needed to curry and keep. How to handle the waste of space we had as the Clover King. How to smile at the right times and how to tamp down my anger and irritation so that it didn't show. It was a very busy, stressful time if I am to be honest. I was shoved into the role without much notice, and was expected to act accordingly. Many of those with noble blood were incensed, but they could not dispute it because they all knew that whereas they may be older and more experienced, I had the raw power and talent that could make them submit if it were necessary. It was.... lonely, in the Palace. I had Klaus, but even he was quick to distance himself, as is expected I learned." He pauses and Asta closes his eyes so that he doesn't look to see if the expression on Yuno's face matches the oddly muted tone of his voice. 

"I held on to the hope that there was one person that would be there for me, when I needed them. I knew that traditions and titles and a crown on my head would mean nothing to this particular person. I held on for so long, always waiting for that person to be the one who walked through the door every time it opened. Someone I could be honest to, share all my doubts with." Asta bites down on his lower lip harshly and the taste of iron graces his tongue. He doesn't feel the wound but knows it's there. While feeling sorry for himself and only thinking of himself, Yuno had been here alone. Asta never saw it like that; what else could Yuno have needed, he had thought? He had everything... Everything.

Goosebumps rise on his forearms as cold fingers slide over the knuckles of his right hand to brush over the spasming tendons and over his boney wrist. Asta's head turns minutely to the left, his neck stretching and veins bulging. He wants to disappear into the bed, the calmly delivered words driving knives into his already shredded heart. But what was he supposed to have done? Stay here? Watch as Yuno took not one throne but two? Watch as he gained the love and devotion of everyone, watch as he signed decrees and reshaped the kingdom? Watched as took women to bed with him? Was he supposed to have been okay with all of it? To swallow his pride and his pain and his desire and just.... just be there, silently hurting with no real way to escape it? He knows he should have. He knows that a good friend would have done that, would have been there encouraging and cheering. What's worse is he knows that -Yuno- would have done that, were their roles reversed, but Asta has the overwhelming disadvantage of being -in love,- which Yuno wouldn't have had to wrestle with. Asta has always felt things deeply, and staying here would have torn him apart in ways that running away and isolating himself had not. 

"Noelle used to let me in here, you know. When everyone had gone to sleep and she was the one up on watch she would open the door to me anytime I would come and give me the key to this room. It was the only place I could get away, if even for a short while. Many nights I fell asleep on this very bed, under these very sheets and blankets, head laid there on that red pillow," Asta doesn't have to open his eyes to know which pillow Yuno speaks of. Its case is brushing against his left fist. The pillow that the man Asta had brought back for the night had been laid upon. Blood runs off of his lip and down over his chin. Chilly fingertips pause in their climb up his bicep and Asta winces as a thumb presses firmly against where his teeth has split his lower lip, moving side to side and smearing red across it.

"I waited here for you to come back, you know," Yuno states airily in a way that would relax most people but makes Asta's instincts go on high alert even if he doesn't react to it. A palm clamps down on his chin, then, fingers wrapping almost painfully around his jaw to force his head to turn back towards Yuno. Asta is shocked enough that his eyes open wide and then he immediately attempts to recoil because Asta has seen Yuno annoyed before, angry before, even borederline furious....... But he's never seen this Yuno, and a lance of apprehension scalds his insides.

It figures that Asta would find Yuno even more beautiful with that wrathful look twisting his face, golden eyes resplendant and flinty and narrowed. Some of his hair has fallen loose from his long braid, sliding to frame his tensed jaw and ruddy cheekbones. Yuno places his left hand flat on the bed, just behind the supple curve of Asta's bared rump. The teasing brush of Yuno's wrist along the area has Asta tightening up between his legs, as is usual when it comes to any physical contact with Yuno, and he is desperately thankful that his knees are drawn up to hide his hardness. "I waited for you, Asta, and you refused to come back." Blunt nails dig into Asta's cheek and he leans into the pain unconciously, enraptured by the way Yuno looks a hairsbreadth away from doing something irreversibly violent. Yuno's breath puffs out raggedly against Asta's bloody mouth and Asta feels his world wavering beneath him, claws of coal hooking into his soul and tugging insistently, urging him to lean forward the rest of the way (it would be so, so easy and oh.. oh, would Yuno's mouth be so perfectly stunning with Asta's blood staining it, his skin so pearly white against the taint of cherry ichor. It would be so easy and so -deliciousssss...-) 

Asta flails in suspended surprise as Yuno's hand pushes him backwards and he doesn't even wince as his spine strikes against the bars of the headboard, chest heaving and eyes rounded like a startled deer. Yuno stands up stright, slowly, red painted fingers absently brushing his unruly hair back from his face before wiping over Asta's blanket. His face is blank once more even if his eyes still blaze hotly, following the expanse of Asta's chest and lingering on every hicky and bite and bruise and welt left from the other night by leather striking against his flesh. Yuno runs his now clean hand down the front of his crisp shirt, adjusts the cuffs to lay neathly around his wrists once more, the veneer of an Emperor falling over him fluidly. His voice is soft again from where it had risen to lash out at Asta when he seems to settle.

"You will not be leaving the Capital at all in the near future. In addition to your Captain's duties, I have assigned you as the main escort and guard for the Princess. Shall she wish to travel outside of the Palace grounds for anything, you are to be readily available to take her." Yuno is already moving to the door again when Asta launches himself up, one foot planting on the ground and one knee dug into the mattress still, his entire body strung tight. "No," he barks out and watches as Yuno freezes mid step although he doesn't turn to look back at Asta when he replies, deceptively unpreturbed, "No?" 

A million reasons enter and exit Asta's mind to supply to Yuno in regards to his refusal but none of them he can say out loud. Because he hates her without truly knowing her? Because the sight of her makes him want to rip her to shreds? That he feels such a rabid jealousy towards her because she will be able to some day freely kiss Yuno, touch Yuno, make love to Yuno? Asta's face twitches through a variety of expressions, none of them that Yuno would be able to understand without knowing the thoughts running through his head, but Asta settles on a snarky reply that he delivers with a lack of heat, words full of distress and anguish instead. 

"Please, No. I can't .... I can't be.... I won't be good for that. Please. I don't..... I just -can't,- Yuno, please."

An electrifying energy riding on the silence between them, the air trembling with the feel of it and making Asta tremble right along with it. Or, maybe the trembling is all him. For a moment he thinks that his odd stuttering has made Yuno reconsider but his feeble hopes crash and burn a horrid death when Yuno's darkly tinted chuckle reaches his ears. 

"I don't think I much care what you want right now, Asta. This is the least you can do for me, after everything." 

Asta rubs his face harshly, anger spiking through him. 

Punishment. This is punishment for him running away. Punishment for him caring only about himself. Punishment for.. for.... everything. His whole life leading up to this moment in time? All of his choices and decisions and actions in the past two years, perhaps? 

Asta doesn't know and he doesn't particularly care. He shoves himself half into that inky darkness in the back of his mind, just enough so that he doesn't have to feel anything at all, and then proceeds to clean himself up, dress in clean clothing, and leave Noelle with instructions for the squad for the rest of the day before heading towards the Palace. 

He couldn't disobey the command, not really, but he didn't have to be pleasant and act happy about it, either. Besides, he suspects that the Princess will be just as happy about the arrangement as he is.


	12. I Love You....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm.
> 
> Uh, the Pugs... the Pugs..... 
> 
> O,O It's totally.... their fault.   
Maybe? Kind of. A little?
> 
> No. No, sorry. This one was all me, but they did make me post it tonight. O.O
> 
> I'm sorry but....
> 
> Not really.

If there is one thing that Asta has learned in the past two weeks of playing babysitter it's that Princess Lunary is as cunning as she is beautiful, and has many masks as she does pieces of jewelry (which is too many to count). Practiced as she is having grown up surrounded by those who practically worshipped the ground she walked on, Asta finds his dislike of her growing with every second that he is forced to endure her presence. Today in particular he finds himself irked. Of all the things that he could be doing with his time... training himself or his squad, completing missions... writing reports for fucks sake.... he is instead here, standing off next to a weeping cherry tree, branches weighed down heavily by lush pink and red blossoms. His right eye is twitching, he can feel it doing so. 

Yuno and Lunary sit with their backs to him in the sun, partially shaded by another large tree, voices too quiet for him to hear. His metaphorical hackles raise as Yuno leans sideways to bring his head closer to Lunary's own and her sunny laughter (fake laughter, a note or two too high to be truly real, the laugh he has heard her direct towards people who she later laughs at in privacy, as if Asta standing not a few strides away from her and her lead Knight Mr. Beanpole is unimportant) echoes back to screech against his own ears like nails on a chalkboard. Her nimble fingers bring forth a piece of yellow fruit, something that Asta can't see well enough to name, and she offers it to Yuno flirtatiously. There is only the slightest hesitation before Yuno opens his mouth willingly and she feeds it to him slowly. Asta crosses his arms tightly over his chest, hands clawing at his own biceps, and pushes his shoulder off of the rough bark where he has been leaning as he lets his gaze wander away from the scene they make. 

It's too much for him to deal with. Where Yuno's dark hair compliments his milky skin, her nearly silver hair makes the rich glow of her bronze skin seem even darker. Where Yuno's eyes are like melted gold, hers are liquid glaciers. Where her chest is round and her hips supple and wide (great for childbirth the ladies in the castle titter to each other when they think no one is listening, playful bets of how soon the Princess will be swollen with child after she and Yuno are wed), Yuno is trim and lean and yet both stand at equal height. They both glide while others seem to trample, voices enrapturing those they speak to, poise unmatched by anyone around them. 

They are a gorgeous couple, so very well matched in every way, and Asta.... Asta fucking detests all of it. 

One of many reasons that Asta had left years ago and had not come back was because he has always had a very short fuse and a volatile temper. He knows this, the people who spend any prolonged time around him know this, and those who know -of- him knows this. In battles that anger has bled into the drive he needs to keep fighting harder and longer, usually (but of course not always) leading him to coming out the other side as the victor. Most of the time his anger is more of a help than a hindrance, but just like everyone else who has a vice that is also an asset, there's a thin line he has to be careful not to cross. He usually tapdances on that line like he's a broadway dancer, but today he hurtles straight over that tightrope without a safety net and tumbles down the steep hill that leads down to a pit of outrage. He can't tell who it's directed at, either, which scares him more than he would like to admit to himself. This is why he had left. THIS right here, the unfounded and frankly irrational anger at seeing -anyone- get close to Yuno in ways that he cannot. 

"Oh! Oh, Asta, you must come over here! Come, come!" Like rusty metal against glass is her voice in his ears. His heart is beating too hard within his chest as he slaps that fraudulently tolerant smile on his face and answers her summons like an obedient -dog- (and oh does this dog want to rip her throat out with a mouth full of jagged teeth), making sure to approach on Yuno's side so that when he ends up in front of them he is closer to him than her. Lunary, wily smily in place as she watches him steadily, reaches out to place her hand ontop of one of Yuno's forearms and laughs again. 

"Yuno was just telling me of the Magic Knight entrance exam that you attended together. Forgive me for laughing so loudly but... were you -truly- swarmed by anti-birds? Those funny little things here in your country that only peck at those who have little to no magic? Is that true? How have you made it to a Captain's position?" 

Asta's eye twitches again and he throws a very unsubtle glare at Yuno who at least has the decency to look a bit uncomfortable for a brief second before lifting a shoulder in a half shrug. Technically the humor behind her question is deserved and he has been on the receiving end of people that ask him the same questions before, but none have looked at him the way that Lunary is now; like a cat waiting eagerly for a mouse to let its guard down. 

"You would have to ask your current Emperorand the previous Captain of the Black Bulls as to how I came about the title of Captain, Princess, and even more so you'd have to ask the previous Wizard King Julius as to how I was appointed Co-Captain before that. I don't presume to know what logic they follow, I am only grateful for what I have earned. As for the anti-birds," Asta pauses, raising a brow in a way that shows how very little he cares about what she may think of him, "I did get swarmed by them. I still do, when I am around them, By now they are quite used to me however and more often than not I am feeding them scraps of bread and cheese that they catch mid-air instead of being attacked by them." Asta tilts his head to the side, glancing at her from the corner of his eye as his lips twitch. "If I am not mistaken, the royal family of Spade does not have magic themselves. For your safety, Princess, I would avoid places where the anti-birds are known to gather." 

He watches in momentary satisfaction as her smile tightens, mirth dimming quickly, and that glinting cruelness crosses through her gaze again before she leans -into Yuno's side,- head tilting to lay against his shoulder as she juts out her lower lip and Asta just wants to pumch her right in her perfect little nose. 

"Oh, thank you for your concern -Captain,- but as I hear it as long as I have dear Yuno here with me, I have nothing to worry about in regards to being attacked by anti-birds. Not a single one has ever even gotten close to him, yes? He has too much magic within him, yes? I think I will be -just- fine."

Her eyelashes flutter and Asta imagines being able to reach out and rip her eyelids right off. Idly he questions if his visceral reactions to her general presence and her taunting is overzealous but he dismisses the thought. (She's a bitch, so really. Really? Yeah, he thinks that he is pretty damn entitled to every thought and urge towards her.)

His mouth tightens in a strained smile as he turns his eyes to Yuno who is already watching him with those intense golden eyes. They stare at each other silently, as seems to be their norm, before Yuno clears his throat and rolls onto his feet to brush off the front of his trousers, eyes avoiding Asta's own. 

"Yes, well. You are dismissed for the rest of the day, Asta. I shall be accompanying the Princess until she retires for the night, so an escort is not needed." A spear lances through Asta's heart though the internal flinch doesn't manifest externally at the words. Well, of course. Of course Asta isn't needed because why would Yuno need him around? He who has zero magic within his body. He who cannot ever hope to stand toe to toe or shoulder to shoulder with Yuno, because Yuno is above and beyond anything that Asta can ever be. 

"I expect to see you bright and early, before dawn tomorrow. We have much to discuss in regards to the Princess' plans for the day, since I cannot accompany her myself." Yuno reaches down to offer his hand to Lunary who takes it daintly, legs unfolding from beneath her as she stands up with his help before tucking her hand within the crook of his offered elbow. Asta watches it all with a detached sort of loathing, hands tucked behind his back. He offers a terse bow, barely a twitch of his upper half and only in Yuno's direction, before turning and striding away with his mind and heart and soul twisted up in a knot he has absolutely no hope of untangling. 

Later in the early night he cannot even bring himself to prowl around the taverns within the city, and he doesn't even try to make his way to that forbidden place where lashes of leather and hands and booted heels against his buttocks would give him freedom. No, he does none of those things. 

Instead he sends a discreet messenger off carrying a tiny slip of paper as he has done every few nights. He waits, freshly bathed and stretched stomach down and naked across his bed in his room at the Black Bulls Headquarters, red pillow tucked beneath his head. Every night he wonders if this will be the night that he falls asleep alone and yet every night, just like tonight, he is proven wrong as his door creaks open and shut quietly and the whisper of feet across the floor and clothes being discarded along the way sooths his raw nerves. The mattress dips as a strong, lean bodty slithers up behind him, lips pressing at the spot between the lobe of his ear and his jawbone. He clutches his hands tighter beneath the pillow and arches his back in silent demand and a breathy chuckle whispers out across the nape of his neck as the man ("My name is Haru, by the way. But... but you can call me Yu-ah, you can call me anything you want, I don't mind.") drapes himself over Asta's back, his hardness already lying ready between Asta's thighs. 

Asta takes a deep breath, knowing it's wrong and hurtful and yet no longer caring, and turns his head so that he can look over his shoulder at the man kissing the curve of his shoulder, just close enough that .... that.... 

"Kiss me, Yuno," He whispers, broken, and his Yuno doppleganger pulls back enough to smile down at him, to lean forward and slip his tongue into Asta's mouth tasting of honey and Nightlock, hips pressing down heavily in a dark promise. Asta is the one to break the kiss, sucking on his own lower lip as he closes his eyes and tries to turn his face into the pillow. Haru-Yuno nudges him back around, lips nibbling along his earlobe as a large hand finds purchase between his cheeks and dips slick fingers into him in a gentle caress, and his voice is a ragged whisper that Asta can imagine is exactly how real-Yuno would sound in the moment just before guiding himself all the way into Asta with a groan. 

"I love you, Asta," echoes through his head, over and over again, a lie delivered on the wrong lips in the wrong voice but that he lets himself believe regardless, because he has nothing other than that. Haru-Yuno makes love to him slow but hard, teeth marking his shoulder blades, hands holding the back of his head down so that his face burrows into that red pillow. 

When Haru leaves hours later just as quietly as he arrived Asta holds the pillow in his lap and stares at the wet tearstains dotted and smeared across it. He hiccups once on a laugh, then twice, and then dissolves into loud hysterical laughter so hard and long that he's having a hard time breathing and his eyes are weeping tears again.

Though his laughter is loud and his choked tears even more so, no one comes to check on him. 

The red pillow ends up in the far corner of the room where he throws it before turning his back to everything it represents and pulling the blanket over his head. 

He doesn't sleep.


	13. The Sash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO SORRY for the delay with this chapter. For some reason my brain just shut down and packed up a bag and went on vacation. Little turd that it is still hasn't come home so I am trying my best, I promise. -Cries.-  
Please let me know if this chapter isn't up to snuff. It's a filler, more than anything, to get us to more exciting things. Pleeeeeease excuse the brevity. I wanted to post what I had, at least. since you have all been so patient!   
Much love!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

"I heard the most interesting thing the other day while having lunch with the ladies of the court," the Princess said mildly, a deceptively playful lilt to her voice as she slipped a long band of brilliant green silk bordered in shimmering gold through her hands and eyeballing it critically. Asta stood off to the side of the village shop, eyes locked on the entrance and wishing he were anywhere but here. Her voice grated on his nerves. He made no noise of acknowledgement and yet she continued her one sided dialogue none-the-less. 

"The ladies tell me that the Emperor has never taken a lover, that they know of. Of course, I am sure that if he had he would have practiced the utmost discretion considering who he is and what could happen to his reputation were he to be found within the company of someone wanting..." Asta clenches his teeth together but refuses to acknowledge her. Within the endless time he has been shadowing her on Yuno's orders he has learned that she seems to delight in his more volatile reactions to things... well, to be fair she seems to delight any reaction she gets out of him period, so he strives to give her nothing although some days it is incredibly hard. 

"They also tell me," and Asta can't help but tense along his shoulders as her voice goes a bit quiet and sly, "That he has never taken a lover because he has already given his heart away to someone." Asta clenches his fists as the air is knocked out of his chest in a solid blow. He had always wondered if Yuno had fallen in love while he was away... or if it had even happened whenever he had still been around and he just didnt know because they were never around each other. The knowledge still hurt, though, in a way that he thought he would be able to avoid. He can feel the heat creeping up along the bridge of his nose to spread out across his cheek bones, as it only did when he feels particularly cornered. Her super sweet scent rolls over him like molasses, sticking to his lungs as he attempts to breath. 

"I don't think these colors go well together, do you?" The long length of silk is draped around his shoulders as she nudges him just so that he can face the nearest mirror. The green and gold fabric sits feels heavy around him even though it's made of silk so fine it's nearly weightless, and her face hovers just over his right shoulder, eyes narrowed in a particulary wily way, lips curled just as mischieviously. "I feel like the green just clashes too much with the beautiful hue of the gold, don't you think?" 

Asta's breath is short and strained as he eyes the silk and he is not dense enough to miss that it's almost a perfect match for the color of his eyes against the color of Yuno's. He has a moment of flaring anger where he contemplates (ripping out her throat with his teeth, swallowing the hot ichor as it flows from her opened veins, relishing in the gurgle of her life as it fades away and the rounded way her shocked eyes would appear in her dyting face) stalking out the door without her regardless of the consequences, but he does not. His fists do shake at his sides, though, the thought of Yuno loving someone as well as the Princess openly taunting him about it a clear indicatior that she has at least an inkling of his feelings for the other man. Her soft hands loop the fabric around his neck in a simple tie and twist so that it hangs stylishly with one end over his chest and the other behind his back. She smoothes her hands along the planes of his shoulders with a hum and then pats his biceps, eyes leaving his own as she peers down at his reflection before them, judging. 

"I am not a jealous woman, Captain, but it is lucky that I do not know the name of this person rumored to have hold of the Emperor's heart," she steps back away from him though her eyes slide back up to meet his own, smirk having fled to give way to a grim set of lips. "I will not share him that way, you see. His heart will be mine however way I must gain it, even if it means ridding this Kingdom of whoever it is that has captured his heart." 

She turns to the woman who has been standing as far away as she can up until that point and her flat voice gains its happy lilt once more as she smiles brightly. "Ah, yes. I do believe I shall purchase this swath of silk," she motions towards Asta with a bejeweled hand, bangles clanking around her wrists as she does so. She does not bother to look his way, however, even as she hands over a few gold pieces worth way more than the length of colors wound around his neck like a noose. 

As they leave the shop, Asta strung as tight as a bow with the silk still wrapped around him and the Princess a two strides ahead of him he almost misses her quiet words to him and truthfully wishes he hadn't heard them at all. When he parts for the evening much later, his mind in a ragged mess and his nerves frayed beyond help for the day, those words chase him into his bed where he curls up in a tight ball with the sheets pulled over his head and his eyes screwed shut.

"I think those two colors suit you, Captain, if only or a short while more." 

The unspoken threat tightens around him and restricts his breathing if only because he gets it. He knows what she says without saying it. Whoever holds Yuno's heart now should relish it, because she is like a winter storm cresting the horizon to freeze out anything around her that she sees unfit. Her ice will reach far and wide, and Asta knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that whereas whoever holds Yuno's heart may be at the very top of that list, Asta is undeniably second. 

He clutches the green and gold sash between his hands, pulling it towards his chest, and slides into a restless sleep.


	14. And when the world slows down.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Takes a deep breath and then squeals as long and as loud as I can-
> 
> I HAVE FOUND THE PERFECT ARTIST TO BRING MY ASTA AND YUNO TO LIFE! I am BEYOND excited and can't WAIT to share them with you! -SQUEALS AGAIN-
> 
> Ahem. 
> 
> Another filler chapter BUT next one the 'party' really begins -rubs hands together while snickering- 
> 
> With that being said....
> 
> As always, the pugs made me do it.....

"What," Yuno says, a statement rather than a question. 

"What?" Asta asks gormlessly, just as flat but definitely more confused. He thought he had been pretty clear when he relayed his message, but apparently not. He went through it within his mind again, of how he had worded everything emotionlessly and factually, and still can't see where any confusion came from. 

Yuno is sitting behind a large mahogany desk, one hand gently holding a pen poised above a document he had been reading over and signing though his piercing golden eyes are locked with Asta's own. It makes Asta want to squirm and so he holds his hands tightly together behind his back, refusing to let anything show on his face. 

He hadn't -wanted- to come and repeat these words to Yuno. He had thought he could have someone else come and report because he didnt want anything to do with this mess, but sweet so sweet Noelle with hands on her hips and a deathly glare had told him to come himself when he had asked her to. (Because who was he to go against those scowling eyes and twisted frown? "You're such a stupid little idiot, Asta, just go fucking tell him yourself.")

He clears his throat again and turns his eyes to the side and down to the floor idly noting a stray piece of flint slowly rolling around in a barely there shift in the air. He inhales deeply and then tries once more, voice bland and mellow. 

"Your.....lover. Whoever she is, if she exists, needs to be told to be careful if you wish to continue meeting with her. The Princess made it.... very clear.... that any competition for your... ah, heart.... could potentially be met with violence. I wanted to... I believe that you placed me with her so that things like this could be reported back to you for … obvious reasons... your …. ah... majesty?" Asta cringes at his fumbling sentence, even more so when he stutters over the ending since he -still- isn't sure what he is supposed to refer to Yuno as in an official capacity. After all, it's not like they are just a Knight and an Emperor (glowing golden eyes peering up at him from behind wet bangs, half shadowed, as Yuno kneels at his feet and hands creep over his calves, his thighs, his -oh my God Asta, stop right there before you pop a freaking bo-...) 

"I see," Yuno says calmly, as calm as the water on a stagnant pond. Asta blinks a few times in rapid succession, eyes darting to peek at Yuno sidelong, confusion curling deep in his stomach. As much as he absolutely detests the thought of some woman getting the attention and love he wants (craves, desires, needs, is DUE), he cares more that there is a threat to Yuno's happiness because Yuno is the center of his entire world and his happiness is all Asta can hope and strive for since he has absolutely no chance of being with him in the ways that he wants; the ways that matter.

"If that is all, you may leave." 

And that is that, but it's not that for Asta as he jerks his head around and stares slack jawed at Yuno who has bent back over his desk to scribble on his documents once more, 'That's fucking ALL?" Asta seethes in his mind, feathers ruffled, as his fists clench together behind his back. 'The fuck is That's all?' He runs the unspoken question over and over and over in his mind until it's nearly the only thing that he can think and yet he still manages to choke out a "Yes, Your Majesty," before he turns around on a stumble and strides out of the Emperor's office, eyes unfocused and mind in a jumble. Did Yuno not really -care- for this woman who the Princess has so clearly threatened? Or was it that Yuno did not trust Asta to be able to ensure the safety of said woman and her identity a secret? Asta wants to punch something, preferably Yuno or the nasty woman he will be marrying soon, but he turns and heads towards one of the many side servant exits so that he can head back to the Black Bulls Headquarters and the long soak in the bath that he is definitely due after the tragically ridiculous day he has had. 

He's nearly to the door of choice when a hand wraps around his wrist and it startles him badly as he had not been paying any attention to his surroundings. He twists in the hold, eyes wide, and he draws to an abrupt halt even as he reaches for the grimoire settled in its pouch at his hip. 

Klaus is staring at him in a way that makes Asta incredibly uncomfortable, like the other man is dissecting a bug and Asta is said bug. Asta kind of has the urge to slug him and break his nose but he obviously refrains. They stay like that for quite a while, silently assessing each other, before Klaus lets go of Asta's wrist and pushes his glasses up closer to the bridge of his nose with a disgusted sound that Asta can't can't even fathom to understand. 

"The Emperor is getting married in close to 60 days," the monotonous man drawls out, eyes rolling up towards the ceiling as if his next words are physically painful for him to drawl out, "It has been decided that the Emperor shall be gifted with a week of revelry, with one night fully dedicated to, ah...." Here Klaus trails off, thin lips pulling into a straight line just dripping in a sort of distaste that Asta is unable to understand until he continues with, "sowing his 'wild oats' as they say. It is not mandatory for the Captains and Co-Captains to attend any of the festivities, as usual, but highly encouraged." Klaus peers down at Asta's wide eyes from the pointed length of his nose, contemplating something that Asta can't even begin to guess, before continuing. "You are encouraged to submit ideas to myself as to what would make Yuno's time more... hmm... enjoyable, if you understand my meaning." Klaus stops speaking at that point, seemingly content with his message, but a sick feeling of bile is crawling up the back of Asta's throat as he realizes exactly what Klaus is asking of him. 

He forgets of the Princess' threat, of Yuno's supposed love for some woman other than her, and finds himself falling into a deep pit of anger and disgust and despair because Klaus is asking him to... to... because -Yuno- is asking him to sit by and watch as some (nasty, filthy whore who Asta is going to fucking -reach into her chest and rip her fucking heart out from behind her ribs for being able to spread her legs beneath Yuno, begging for him to sink into her over and over and OVER) woman is able to coax Yuno back into his room while the rest of them eat and get drunk and play merry. 

Asta counts to three slowly, schooling his twisting features into something less than a scowl and more indifferent as he answers Klaus. "I apologize. I have absolutely no insight as to what the Emperor would prefer in that regard. I regret to say that I will be busy the week of celebration, so give the Emperor my best regards." He sweeps past Klaus, nearly knocking the other mans side with his shoulder, and doesn't turn when Klaus barks out his answer. 

"You don't even know when it is, Captain!" The man sounds hostile and exasperated and so -done,- but Asta is far past him in that regards so he throws his answer over his shoulder without even looking backwards, striding towards the stables where he knows he will find that calm yet ornery gelding he has grown so attached to, mind a constant buzz of static. 

"I will be busy, no matter what the dates are." 

And as he sets his heels to the barrel of the beautiful chestnut gelding, fingers tangling in the mane just over the withers, he ducks his head and lets the animal surge forth beneath him as if he can outrun everything while sitting astride the strong animal. The tears are hot on his cheeks and feel like acid, burning down to his very soul as he flirts with the line between himself and that darkness in the back of his mind that weaves closer and closer every day that he has to stay in the Capital. 

He hates it all. 

He hates the echo of hooves on the cobbled streets. He hates the Black Bulls half cape draped around his shoulders like a lead weight. He hates the Princess with her cold and unmatched beauty. He hates the faceless woman that most likely has stolen Yuno's heart and jealously locked it away for keeps. He hates himself and the pathetic yearning that rips and tears at his insides like an insatiable beast that can never be satisfied. 

Mostly, he hates Yuno, but only because he loves him so much and can never deny anything that Yuno asks him to do himself. 

His only respite here is that Klaus had presented the information and request, not Yuno. 

If there's any higher power, he thanks them for that small mercy.


	15. Twist me Up and.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long story short; nearly finished this chapter and then lost it all so had to rewrite. Talk about devastation. This doesn't make me as happy as the original bit did but I still hope you enjoy it.   
EXPLICIT MATERIAL in this chapter. Or at least more than what has been currently so, you've been warned. I feel like I'm terrible at writing this sort of stuff so please feel free to send me suggestions on how to better myself as a writer.   
I hope you all enjoy it. I can't wait to show the art once it's completed by the wonderful Kuumi.   
Love you all, and thanks for the continued support and the patience! 
> 
> As always, the pugs made me do it

Somewhere in the Capital, there's a party generously flowing with mead and wine and all manner of other liquid spirits. Somewhere there is merriment and celebration and cheers and laughter. Somewhere out there, women are crooning over Yuno as he sprawls out like the Emperor he is. And later, from that somewhere, Yuno will pick the one woman who catches his eye the most and she will fall giggling and breathless upon his bed to claim him one last time before Yuno getsmarried. Perhaps even the woman he favors and who the gossip speaks of him being in love with. Does she have long and silky hair, the color of wheat? Are her eyes a dazzling color like blue or pink or something more down to earth; a rich brown like the churning dirt from rich crop fields? Her skin pale or dark as night? Tall or short? Will she croon dirty things into Yuno's ear as he peels off her clothes like one would unwrap a present? Are her lips eager as they wrap around his.....

Asta gasps sharply as a hard but short strike to his shoulder blades from a stiff length of leather bites into his flesh, no doubt leaving behind an angry red welt against his flesh with the impact. It does what it's always meant to do for him, though, and chases away those obsessive thoughts that constantly filter through his head like a relentless onslaught against his sanity. This is why he falls back on this, when he has no other choice. This is why he allows this, when the darkness in his mind gets too heavy and he can't keep it at bay by himself. When the pain ripping his heart apart threatens to fully gut him inside out. This is how he allows himself to have what he wants, and what he needs, when he finds himself giving up completely and wishing that he didn't even have to breathe anymore. 

He trembles, hands bound tight behind his back almost painfully, the bite of rope digging into his skin a welcome feeling. Stiff leather trails down and hooks under the bindings and wrenches upwards forcing Asta to stumble to his feet at the pain in his shoulders as they bend backwards and up too far. When he steadies himself his arms are allowed to fall back down to rest and Asta takes the moment to slide his feet shoulder width apart to brace himself as he waits expectantly for whatever is next, his breathing already ragged, his flanks already decorated with red welts that burn every time he shifts. There's more anticipation and excitement for him this evening than normal, and he knows it's because it's the first night that Haru.... wonderful, accepting Haru..... has been let loose to practice what Asta had taken him to the other place to learn. Something about having him be the one behind everything even though Asta is blindfolded makes everything that much sweeter for Asta. He can imagine the hands he finds himself so familiar with now as truly being Yuno's instead. And those hands, familiar and worshipful, covet Asta's body with light brushes of fingertips against each mark left by a sharp thwack of leather. 

Asta can allow himself to imagine the shift of long black hair as it brushes over a slender shoulder. He knows what that looks like now, even though it might not be the right person overall. He can see it, so much clearer now than his own imagination would have been able to conjure. How long arms would look hooked around his waist from behind, what it would look like for Yuno's hair to fall over his own shoulders and brush against him in time with frantic thrusts and loud moans. He can imagine that the eyes burning into his skin currently are rich gold instead of honey brown, and can imagine that the hand curling into the shorter hairs at the base of his skull belongs to the most powerful man Asta has ever known. His head is yanked back harshly, as he loves it to be, and hot lips descend upon the curve of his neck and map the curve of it up to his jaw where a tongue and teeth joins in to nip and lick their way slowly towards the corner of his own open mouth where he is now outright panting. He takes a particularly deep inhale through his nose and finds his heart rocketing behind his ribcage as lips slant over his own and his tongue is filled with the rich flavor of clover and peppermint, the flavor making the hair stand up on his arms as the hand holding the crop (because that's the only thing it could be) up to painfully dig into the bottom part of his jaw. He has a fleeting thought that he should be remembering something important, but that is quickly drowned by the feeling of fire curling low in his belly when the hard line of another body presses up firmly against his own, an erection digging into his hip and promising... promising....

Teeth bite harshly into his lower lip, breaking open the part he had -just- fully healed, and as their tongues dance together the blood trickles freely onto their tastebuds. Neither of them seem to care; or at least Asta doesn't care and his partner knows that and accepts it whether he likes it or cares or not. He is only slightly caught off balance when he is tugged around and pushed forward and feels the soft edge of a mattess against his upper thighs, having to remember that this is the first time that he has ever allowed anyone inside his own room in the Black Bulls Headquarters to 'play' this way, but forces himself to relax as the end of the crop is pressed painfully between his shoulder blades and making him bow forward until his face and chest are pressed into the bedsheets that he cannot see. The leather trails down his spine and makes him arch his back like a cat seeking more attention, his bleeding lower lip sucked into his mouth to hold back a loud groan as another sharp smack sounds out against the back of his thighs just beneath the curve of his cheeks. He is startled when a wet tongue immediately soothes over the mark, however, something he has never had anyone do before. His erection, already heavy and ready, strains and throbs between his legs at the attention and he finds his mind going fuzzy around the edges. He is vaguely aware of that ever present darkness hovering to the side, hungry and willing and eating up the pain to feed itself, and he toys with the jagged edges of it even as a harder blow lands over his bared rump, causing him to let loose a broken curse that dies into a pleading whimper. 

Whoever had taken in Haru for training had done a good job, Asta thinks blearily as a tongue chases away the hot biting trail left behind. His thoughts flicker out again, trecherously taunting him with the image of Yuno's head buried between some faceless woman's thighs, and he buries his face down into the mattress further until he finds it slightly hard to breathe and shakes his head minutely back and forth as he tries to dispell the picture. A hot hand trails up and over his rounded right buttock, spiderlike and tempting, to cup the junction of his hip in a bruising grip that brings Asta back to the here and now (back to his fantasy, where it's Yuno standing behind him chasing a bead of sweat along his spine, and Yuno's heavy erection rubbing the underside of his own cock and Yuno's hand guiding the crop to rub between the cleft of his cheeks. 

Asta pushes his chest down into the bed further as he rches his back, hands pressing down so that he can bare the long length of the back of his neck as he takes in a greedy gasp of air even as he feels the leather crop falling away to be replaced by eager fingers dancing and prodding their way into him, roughly preparing him in a hasty and desperate way that has him keening for more, his fingernails biting into his palms as he tugs at the binds keeping his wrists together. This is perhaps the first time he has ached with the need to put his hands on someone else, the fading taste of clover on the back of his tongue making it feel heavy and thirsty. 

He jolts forward on a cry as a tongue joins the fingers scissoring inside of him, knees giving out so that he is flat down once again, legs unable to keep his lower half up as they tremble. Now this... this... (would Yuno's tongue feel like this inside of him? Would it be as hot, as demanding, as HUNGRY as this?).... makes his entire body break out in uncontrollable shivers, his lips unable to keep back the small hitches of whines that keep pouring from inside of him, the balls of his feet planted against the floor while his heels reach up towards the ceiling. He can't think of ever being this delirious before, ever, but he also can't think of much of anything other than the fingers and tongue sliding into him and the creeping hand that has slithered around to grasp the base of his own erection and not allowing him any pleasure, any release, and Asta simply aches with the force it takes to keep his hips from moving. 

Theres a breathy low moan from the mouth occupied with devouring him, one that sounds like a man lost in the desert finding an oasis to quench his thirst, and then fingers and tongue are pulling out of him and away from him and Asta opens his mouth to beg for something (anything, pick the damn whip up and use that if you have to but fucking hell just please, just please...) but he is choked off into keening instead as the head of an erection breaches him, slowly at first and then quick and deep all in one thrust that makes Asta's vision go white and he just wants to grab something and hold onto it, anything at all, but he can't because his hands are -still fucking tied- and his brain is rebelling and oh god, oh god, oh GOD there's no time to sort himself out because that bruising grip at his hip is joined by a strong grip on the opposite shoulder to anchoring him back and Asta just.... he can't because... because .... why?

Behind the blindfold, Asta's world erupts into white stars and he suddenly finds it all too hard to gasp oxygen into his lungs because what the actual fuck is going on? His prostate, normally a flighty and allusive thing, is found immediately and gleefully abused if the hips behind him are any indication. He tries to jerk forward and away after the first few thrusts that send shocks arching through his body but he isnt allowed to get very far before those iron like grips bring him back and he finds himself crying out (in ecstacy? Pain? a bit of both, definitely) loudly enough that some distant part of him realizes that anyone who is in the building probably hears him loud and clear. His mind, already a jumbled mess of his own making and design due to his complicated feelings and self imposed exile, frays out and he actually forgets that the person working him over is NOT Yuno, (because who could ever make his body sing and fall apart like this if not for Yuno?), and he brokenly moans out "Oh God, Yes Yuno, Please," and is rewarded with a snarl and that hand moving from his shoulder to tangle in his hair to use that as leverage instead. 

The bite of his hair being tugged harshly with every thrust inside of him reduces him much too quickly into a babbling mess (he can't even understand what he's even saying at this point but can't find it within himself to care because what the fuck does it matter anymore?) and he finds himself going completely slack as the hand leaves his hip to rear back and lay a flat palmed slap against his right check which (Oh my fucking god, I'm going to....) makes Asta fall apart completely, nothing able to waylay the spurt of cum that leaves him in a violent spasm. He vaguely realizes that he's still incoherently babbling, his voice hoarse and weak even as he is filled with a warmth he is all too familiar with and relishes at this point. The body behind him curves along his own, one slick hand sliding up covered in his own ejaculation to cup his chin and turn his head to the side where he is met with desperate lips and tongue and the taste of clover and his own cum and something sweet, tempered only by the all too familiar earthly taste of nightlock as a sliver of a leaf is transferred from the other mouth to his own before he is left raggedly breathing and still bent over the side of his bed. 

The aftershocks of everything still tweak his limbs and press on his lungs but the nightlock is making quick work of all of that. Slowly he feels his entire body relaxing and he barely registers as a wet strip of cloth begins to clean him up, gently and a tad bit possessively. He's found himself in a 'drop' before, though not as intensely as he is feeling this one, but that's ok. He welcomes it and doesnt expect any sort of comfort that most people would reach out for. There's no point, because he doesn't do this mainly for the pleasure... he does it for punishment. 

He allows himself to be manueverd into his bed, still blindfolded as he drifts in that in between place that he can only get to after a particularly nasty session usually, and only feels a vague sense of surprise when a long body slips underneath the blankets with him. The dark corner of his mind is suspiciously quiet, voluntarily retreating as far as it can instead of testing him, though he is in no frame of mind to wonder why that is. He is drifting in and out, that happy content place he finds only after leather and bruises and hatred, when the rope around his wrist is untied and pulled away carefully and he hums thankfully as something cool is smeared across his wrists to ease the burn of the wounds he knows are there from him fighting against the restraints. 

He curls up on his side, bringing his hands to curl together beneath his head, his knees pulling up towards his chest despite the protest in his back and hips and the way it makes it feel like he is splitting himself in half between his legs, but there is a smile on his face even though he doesn't realize it. 

He doesn't realize it because he is eons away, in a universe where everything is so vastly different, the body curling up behind him is Yuno, and the hand that affectionately runs over his side and hip is Yuno's, and the lips that press tenderly against his shoulder are Yuno's, and the fingers that tug away the blindfold as he is sinking into dreamland are Yuno's.

Asta mumbles a sleepy response of "I love you, too," as he's drifing off to sleep when he can imagine Yuno's voice breathing "I love you, Asta, never question that," into his ear. A ghostly kiss to the shell of his ear chases him into his dreams and stays with him even after he wakes up the next day, bed devoid of Haru's presence, and that's ok. 

Afterall, it had only been Asta's overactive imagination brought upon by the state of mind the session had put him in, and that's ok. Because despite it all being a fantasy his mind cooked up to help him stay sane (is he? He wonders all the time if he is, because he doesn't particularly feel sane when all is said and done at the end of every day) he would rather have Yuno in a fantasy than not at all. 

("I love you, Asta, never question that," runs through his mind in Yuno's voice for the next few days, soft and gentle and so full of aching love that it makes his heart ache even with the knowledge that Yuno has never said something likt that to him. But that's ok, because even if it's a fake memory, he has it for himself now anyways.)


	16. Keep Winding.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O.O 
> 
> The pugs insisted, since I made you all wait so long. Things are about to come to a head, I think. 
> 
> Wrote this on my phone so sorry for any mistakes!

“I wonder,” Lunary drawls out in a tone of voice that makes Asta’s shoulders immediately stiffen and his teeth clench as he drops his eyes from where he has been staring off into the distance to follow the Princess as she glides from one luscious rose bush to another, bending ever so slightly to breathe in their sweet scent. Asta’s fingers on his right hand glance over the nearly faded redness on his left wrist, pressing into the lingering tenderness there to keep himself grounded as she continues on, cold blue eyes assessing each blooming flower. “I wonder sometimes,” she repeats as if talking to herself but clearly directing the words towards Asta’s statue still form, “what kind of lover the Emperor will be.” 

It’s not a question, Asta knows. There is no shift in her voice that would indicate one, and so he keeps his jaw locked and desperately fights the scowl that wants to take over his face. 

His hawk-like gaze follows her as she plucks a smaller rose from the bush, one that’s not quite the rich blood red of the rest, muted and pale in comparison. She twirls it between her index finger and thumb, lips painted a deep brown color quirking up in a humorless smile. Her hair has been artfully piled upon the back of her head, wooden hand carved beads and small chocolate colored feathers woven within the braids. 

“Gently, perhaps?” She turns her gaze to meet Asta’s own, frosty gaze chilling his bones and raising his hackles, that inky darkness leisurely waking and stretching out tendrils of blackness to caress against the mental wall he keeps it locked behind. The caress is almost tangible to Asta, his attention split between that writhing -thing- whispering to him in his mind and the Princess as she drifts closer to him, still holding that wrong-colored rose. “No,” she purrs out softly, her voice dropping in volume as she lets her own eyes drop away from his to trail down his body and back up causing goosebumps to erupt along his flesh in disgust. He knows, he -knows- that she’s baiting him, he just can’t work out why she’s doing so. Every time he finds himself alone with her like this, she makes an offhand comment that digs deeply into him and curls around his heart and -squeezes,- but this is an altogether different sort of knife she is plunging into him. 

(It would be so so easy, yes, you’re all alone. Wouldn’t it be nice? You could have Yuno’s full attention. Isn’t that nice? Isn’t that what you want? Let go, let-) 

“I think,” Lunary snatches him back from where he had been slowly reaching towards that barrier in his mind, almost entranced, and he blinks to refocus his world as Lunary plays idly with the petals of the rose in her hands where it’s being cupped, thrones stem hanging freely between the small gap between them. “He will be a demanding, passionate type,” she mumbles softly, that small smile turning sly as she shifts and walks slowly around behind him, overly sweet perfume itching Asta’s nose and making him want to sneeze. 

He doesn’t turn to follow her as she disappears behind him since he can still smell her so close and hear her come to a stop, small unseen bells tinkling with every shift of her long skirt. Asta absolutely loathes the fact that he agrees with her; he has had years to think and fantasize about it after all. Yuno -will- be a passionate lover to her, he just knows it. He can -see it- as he closes his eyes and tries to wrestle his growing anger back down where it belongs (what a pity, the darkness croons in his mind, rubbing itself against the barrier as if begging to be scratched). 

“I imagine,” she whispers now, her height making it easy for her to lean closer to him without it bringing her body inappropriately close to his and he can hear the humor ringing her words, “he will want to leave marks... marks to show people, to tell them to leave alone what belongs to him.” 

Asta shivers unconsciously, (the darkness purrs, a flash of teeth and the taste of iron and the burn of a welt rising up along the supple backs of thighs fed to him from within, momentarily twisting reality and fantasy and leaving him wrong footed) as rose thorns dig into his palms as the flower is pushed between his tense fingers, flighty soft fingers ghosting over the marks on his wrist for such a brief moment that he is convinced his mind is playing tricks on him, more so than usual even. 

“You would know something about that, wouldn’t you, Captain?” She asks quietly, knowingly, and there’s a moment where Asta’s heart stops beating altogether (she knows, she knows, she knows your dirty filthy thoughts and she’s going to ruin everything by telling him and -wrap your hands around her delicate throat and strangle the life out of her before she even has the fucking CHANCE)

That ghosting touch flickers across the curve of his neck where (teeth and lips and tongue and-) he knows there are hickies and bite marks that he can’t quite cover but has given up caring about despite the knowing and scandalized looks he receives from other people. “After all, whoever left these must be the same type.” 

He unconsciously flinches away, dropping the rose from his bleeding fingers and he simultaneously takes a step away and turns to face her, eyes wide and heart kickstarting again and making him feel faintly ill. He lifts one hand up to smack against his neck and cover up the marks for reasons he doesn’t comprehend while that ever present darkness, normally threatening and vicious, seems to almost be amused as tendrils start to draw back again, rolling as gently as sea water stretching back into the ocean from the wet sand of the beach. 

There’s a vicious sort of satisfaction on the Princess’ face that Asta doesn’t understand -at all,- flinty gaze full of cool calculation. Of all the ways she has looked at him he finds himself most unnerved by this one. Suddenly Asta feels as if there’s something terribly important he’s missing, something he should be able to see and yet hasn’t, and that leaves him feeling uncomfortably adrift. 

Lunary reaches out with a silk slippered foot and slowly lowers her heel to crush the rose into the ground like one would squash a bug as her face falls into the familiar apathy he is used to seeing, eyes hooded as she gestures towards the palace before moving in that direction. Asta hesitates for a single moment, ground still feeling unsteady beneath his feet because he’s -missing something- and he (desperate gasps and moans, the darkness shoving the thoughts and feelings into the forefront of his thoughts, feel of fingers softly mapping out patterns along his bare back as he drifts in that in between place of sleep and awakened, whispered words hot against the back of his neck that he can’t quite understand) needs to figure it out or he’s going to truly lose whatever scraps of sanity he has left. 

Soon the silence is filled with the normal idle chatter from the Princess as they make their way towards the dining hall and Asta realized that it’s nearing lunch time and although he is ravenously hungry, he knows he won’t be able to stomach much of anything once the Princess sits down at the chair to Yuno’s right, the one reserved for her alone. 

Sure enough, as her laughter echos our after some quietly exchanged words between their heads bowed towards each other, as they seem to prefer to speak more intimately that way, Asta feels the tender piece of gravy doused meat in his mouth sit heavy on his tongue and he has to force himself to swallow, the delicious flavors turning to ash. He looks away from them and shuts himself down, choosing to sip slowly at his iced water and ignoring the subtle ways that Lunary tries to bait him into talking about the beautiful way that all of the roses are coming to life within the gardens. 

All he can see is her heel crushing the odd one out of the bunch and eyes as cold as ice.


	17. Until We are irrevocably.....helplessly....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry.
> 
> I just...the Pugs and....
> 
> I'm just sorry.
> 
> Read carefully. Dubious consent and some other things that may make people uncomfortable. Also, it pingpongs back and forth from 'now' and 'flashback' so please be aware. 
> 
> We have reached the moment before the peak of angst, I promise. It's all downhill from then... or is it uphill? Hmm, either way.

Everything..... 

Everything is slipping out of Asta's fingers, slippery as oil and leaving him frayed around the edges. He knows on an intellectual level that the quiet watchfulness hovering at the back of his mind should be alarming him, making him wary and careful, but he can't focus on that because everything.... everything is....

Asta recalls a time that he had been walking through the village as a child, wide eyed and curious and afraid of nothing (where did those days go? Where did that fearlessness escape to, leaving this messed up ball of confusion in it's wake, trembling and barely held together?). There had been a wolf dog that had wandered into the town and killed a whole flock of chickens owned by the baker's wife, and so the husband had baited and trapped it, and it had stood backed against the bars snarling and snapping at anyone who got close. The baker had looked satisfied, vengeful, and Asta had felt that childish indignation that comes with inexperience and a lack of maturity. Eyes wet from angry tears he had pushed through the villagers to stand in front of the baker, fists clenched and accusing the man of being heartless and cruel. The baker was a lumbering man with wide shoulders and a nose too big for his face but Asta had always seen him as gentle and kind, so he hadn't understood. The man had kneeled down in front of Asta with hardened eyes and had told Asta that if the wolf dog had killed and eaten the chickens, he would be angry but would have understood because that's how predators worked and they had to find food whatever way they could, but that the wolf dog hadn't eaten a single chicken and had instead just mauled them all to death which was the sign of mental illness and that to allow the animal to live would be both detrimental to the community as well as to the animal itself because it's aggressive behavior would only continue to fester and grow. He told Asta that if he thought it cruel to put the animal out of it's misery after hearing all of that, then he was more than welcome to go over and open the cage and let the animal go and with a defiantly raised chin Asta had marched over and reached towards the latch, paying very little attention to the wolf dog itself except for a quick glance of pity at where it sat hunched defensively, frothy drool dripping from his black lips and gums, sharp teeth bared and blue eyes narrowed into slits. It's as if a switch had been flipped when their eyes met and Asta flung himself backwards away from the door of the crate just as the animal lunged. He avoided the maw full of sharp teeth by an inch, but his right hip had been caught by a massive paw full of lethal claws that reached between the bars after him. It took him months to fully recover from that wound since the village didn't have any particularly talented healers magic wise, and to this day Asta still carries the large scar left behind from the encounter. Yuno had been the one to take over his care, watching carefully as he was shown how to clean and rebandage the wound and what to do to help Asta from catching an infection and like everything else put before Yuno he had soaked the knowledge up like a sponge and had dutifully practiced it every time he had to put his hands on Asta. Yuno was the one who woke him gently in the middle of the night to feed him hot broth and fresh cold water to quench his throat. He was the one who coaxed Asta out of nightmares full of snarling and danger to reassure him that he was alright, that there was nothing to worry about because Yuno would be there no matter what. 

The sound he makes in the back of his throat is alot like that trapped, wounded wolf dog. The hair on the back of his neck is raised much like that too as he winds through the cobbled streets of the capital near blind to his surroundings. Whatever expression is on his face sends people flinching away and watching him pass with worried sounds passing their lips in surprise. He wonders offhandedly if that rabid wolf dog had been prowling the outskirts of the village, waiting and watching and tracking the smell of chickens with the same sort of barely contained energy rippling just underneath it's skin... had it's muscles bunched up in his haunches in anticipation as it slunk low to the ground from shadow to shadow the same way Asta's calves tense and thighs stay flexed tight? 

(Golden eyes seem to glow with the way the sunlight reflects from them, rooting Asta to place on his way out of the Palace. He could leave because the Princess had told him she planned to stay in today with the tutors and would be taking tea and lunch with some other 'ladies' that she had met in order to garner friendships. Asta had simultaneously wanted to roll his eyes and jump for joy because a day without her weird games are JUST what he needs, but then. Then, the Universe hates him, so of -course- Yuno would catch him on his way out and -of course- it would be a day where Yuno could take a break from his 'duties' to ask Asta to join him for a leisurely ride. And Asta has already accepted the fact that he can never say No directly to Yuno's face so not much later they are slipping out from under the watchful eyes of...well, everyone, with Asta stiff backed upon the chestnut gelding and Yuno astride one of those massive black monsters that had come from Spade, looking as poised and regal and handsome as.... surprise surprise.... an Emperor should. Even with a long cape thrown over his shoulders and a wide cowl draped over his head Yuno can't shake the aura that seems to cling to him and Asta feels inadequate in so many ways next to him. They don't speak much, Yuno's horse a step in front of Asta's own and leading the way to a destination that Asta is not privy to...)

Asta breathes in deep through his slightly raised nose as if scenting the air and maybe he is but he's too far gone to really know for sure. His skin feels extremely tight, as if it's a suit he is wearing and is about to bust right out of, and there's a soft buzz of energy that sets his teeth on edge, almost making them chatter. 'Yes,' he thinks, warbled and disjointed as he slides up to a door that he hasn't ever actually entered but is very familiar with, 'Yes,' whispers back in an echo, a wide jokers smile parting the darkness in his mind, a faint hint of amusement tickling his senses. 

He doesn't knock but he doesn't have to. Perhaps the force he puts behind opening the door is excessive as it sends it into the wall with a bang, but as short as he still is still feels as if he's filling the doorway completely, his hands reaching out to brace against the jamb on either side, his eyes looking up through his lashes. 'Yes,' he snarls internally, the memory of wild blue eyes rising up like a promise, 'this is what the wolf must have felt like.' 

(It's not until they have ridden into trees outside of the Capital in silence that Asta slowly starts to realize that this is a horribly bad idea. There's a strange tension in the air and he isn't quite sure he wants to find out where it comes from or why. It's not as if he's afraid -of- Yuno, he's just afraid of Yuno could -do- unintentionally. Or say. Or.... anything, because everything Yuno does has the capability of completely destroying Asta without the other man being aware of it, and that's what is so terrifying. Yuno's voice is low and honey-thick when he starts to speak and just like honey, Asta feels as trapped as a fly, his every atom perking and focusing on Yuno's profile in avid interest. "When I found this place, my first thought was of you," and there it goes, an arrow straight into his already bleeding heart because how can Yuno say things so casually, as if they don't -mean- more than what they are supposed to sound like? Asta unconciously rocks back into the seat of his saddle and that ever-sensitive gelding beneath him stops for a few beats before Asta nudges him forward again. In front of them, Yuno is manuvering his horse carefully through a thick bunch of trees into an opening that makes Asta want to camp up in and never leave. There's thick grass, wildflowers slowly dancing with a shift in the breeze, and a beautiful lake that stretches further than Asta's eyes can see. How this place isn't filled with people who have discovered it are a mystery to Asta, really, because he feels like this is exactly where he is going to spend every single free moment he has from now on. He's watching a few birds happily chasing each other over the water so it takes him a bit by surprise when the reins are tugged from his grip and drawn over the gelding's neck by Yuno who proceeds to loop the leather around a thick branch just off to the side as he has already done with the horse he had ridden in on. There's a momentary pause before he turns his eyes, burning and bright, back up to meet Asta's own as he pushes back the hood of his cape and begins to untie it from around his shoulders.)

Haru startles badly at the noise, tripping and turning around with widened eyes and a face full of apprehension. Asta doesn't know exactly what it is he sees when he looks at Asta in the doorway but he does notice that despite the fact that the other man seems to relax there is a cautious light in his eyes and he makes a strange, almost placating move of slowly bringing his hands chest high and palms facing Asta in the universal sign of -everything is fine, see? I am unarmed,- and ah, 'yesssss,' a soft voice brushes against his jumbled mind, 'yes, this is how that wolf must have looked as it finally saw those chickens.' 

Asta can feel his abdomen trembling, his fingers clutching tight though he can't figure out if he wants to throw himself backwards out the door or push himself forward to pounce. He truly feels caged and the darkness hovering in the back of his minds swirls and reforms as a shadowed silhoutte of fur and claws, prowling back and forth next to his wall. It's shaking, or maybe he's shaking, he can't tell anymore what is inside and what is out and he needs something, anything.. he needs to be grounded or he's going to just -lose it-......There's only so much a person can expect to take.... There's only so much....

("Yuno lays the cape over his empty saddle and beckons with his chin towards the water. There's a perculiar little smile on his lips and Asta wants to run and hide and fall forward and devour him all at the same time. He settles for carefully sliding his feet to the ground as watchful as an easily startled deer, still confused as to what they are even doing. Maybe it's because they were last alone Asta had ended up with Yuno kneeling at his feet, regardless of the fact that it had been completely innocent. Asta's mind doesn't -do- innocent, not when it comes to Yuno. There's not a single clean thought about Yuno in his mind anymore, too many years of solidarity and his imagination and.... and.... A..n....d.......  
And Yuno is edging off his shoes and pulling his shirt up over his head and pushing his trousers down and Asta is going to implode because it was inevitable back home to see each other naked and more often than not they would hop into any body of water they could on a hot day to cool off, stark naked and carefree, but Yuno has gone from a boy to a -man- and dear god Asta's having a heart attack, he knows it, because Yuno's lean body is just as delicious as Asta's imagination has ever imagined it to be, maybe even more so. For a moment Asta is irrationally jealous of the water, because he wants to lick at Yuno's thighs and leave wet trails along the glorious cleft of Yuno's ass too, but unlike the water he isn't free to do so.)

The decision is taken out of his hands, really, the moment that Haru's takes a shifting step. It doesn't matter or register to Asta whether it's a step closer or a step away from him, he lunges all the same 'just like a rabid wolf,' floats through his mind. He's bearing down on Haru immediately and despite the fact that Haru is taller than him and saner than him (though maybe that's -why-) he goes limp and lets his back hit the counter top he had been standing next to (just finished dinner, perhaps, since a half eaten sandwich on a plate go crashing to the floor and a cup of what looks like sweet red wine knocks over and spreads across the counter to wet Haru's dark hair as it splays out around his shoulders. 'Prey' grumbles through his mind, a wayward thought that Asta has very little focus to try and understand, but suddenly he realized that yes, he IS very, very ravenous and, well, the honey colored eyes are catching the sunset through the window -just so,- enough to make them appear a dark gold, like the eyes that had peered up at him in the darkness of a rainy night not too long ago. Asta reaches down to hitch up slender hips and he pushes forward with his own to settle the other man completely ontop of the counter, fingers making quick and angry work of the cotton pants hiding his prize, snatching them impatiently down until they catch on bent knees, eliciting a hitching gasp from (Haru's? Yuno's? Out is in and in is out and night is day and the sun is the moon) parted lips, pale cheeks darkening quickly in a blush of embarrassment or arousal or anger or Asta doesn't even care so it doesn't matter and he jerks the other man up and around, that gaping maw of hunger somewhere within him gnawing away. 

(The end of Yuno's braid is getting wet when he turns to look over his shoulder at Asta, one slender brow raised up and his voice scornful. "Well, I didn't plan on swimming alone. Have you forgotten how to swim?" And the challenge is there in his mind but Asta doesn't really understand what the challenge actually is, but he rolls his shoulders and quickly shucks off his own clothes while being very, very aware of the fact that Yuno is still naked waist deep in water and still watching Asta even as he scurries himself into the water with absolutely none of the grace that Yuno had. There's a huff from the other man and Asta knows it's his version of a laugh and for a moment he forgets about everything, transported back to an easier and happier time when they challenged each other to races around ponds and fell giggling into bed at night after a long day of rambunctious play. He unconciously smacks the water and sends a spray of it into Yuno's face, relishing in the momentary startlement from the other man, before his stomach drops out beneath him because -what the fuck is he doing, Yuno is the EMPEROR now, Asta can't just go around doing stupid...- and yet with a very familar glint in his eye Yuno sends two waves of water into Asta's face in response and before he knows it they are playing as they used to play, Asta laughing loud and trying not to inhale water and failing spectacularly as they chase each other around trying to win a game that was never actually declared. Asta loses track of time, uncaring of anything outside of the clearing and the precious moments stolen away between them, and perhaps they would have continued well on into the night if it hadn't been for Yuno reaching out to catch his ankle firmly to tug him backwards and under the water. Asta comes up choking on water and sputtering laughter even as he tries to cough and he's shaking his wet hair away from his face and out of his eyes when two long fingered hands trail up his sides and around his stomach to reach up and press flat palms against his heaving chest. Yuno's slender but strong chest rests against his tense back, his chin hooked over Asta's left shoulder and suddenly nothing is innocent anymore because Asta's mind spirals down that dark rabbit hole that consists purely of his filthy imagination and the flesh between his legs goes from slack to a soldier at attention in the span of time it takes Yuno to give two ragged gasp of breathe against the shell of his ear and fucking hell there's only -so much one person should have to take......- and he's flailing and accidentally elbowing Yuno in the gut and not even apologizing as he swims to where his feet can touch and struggles to pull on his clothes before Yuno can get out and -see-...)

Asta rips the shirt keeping the long expanse of back from his view, tongue finding the edge of a shoulder blade as he fumbles to untie his own pants, still damp and clinging to his legs. His pulse is a bounding, frantic thing and where his mouth should be dry with the way he gulps air through it and into his lungs it is instead filled with saliva and he understands in that single distracted moment with the taste of skin and sweat filling his mouth, how that wolf dog must have felt when it locked its jaws around that first chickens neck. There's a shift beneath him, a frantic scrabbling of hands and arms that he barely registers until there's a small bottle shoved into his hand and ah, yes. He feels a twisted smile tugging his mouth wide, a rumble in his chest something just this side of inhuman making the body beneath him go very very still, and then his hungry mouth is joined by greedy fingers prodding and stretching and between what seems like one instant and the next his hips are pushing him forward into searing heat and his teeth are vicious and the darkness is unraveling from the shape of a wolf because there's blood on his lips and a brokenly moaning man beneath him and Asta is just so done. He's sad and he's tired and he's -so fucking angry-...... 

He shifts, one hand bracing slender hips while the other tangles into long black hair, twisting it around his fist and pulling back and relishing in the sharp cry that it elicits and somewhere in whatever corner his sanity is currently cowering that he should be more careful and gentle because usually he's on the receiving end of this sort of thing as a means of punishment for every single -sick- urge he has towards Yuno, but this... this.... barely controllable anger is something he hasn't felt in quite some time and even worse it's directed at YUNO and he needs to let it out because if he doesn't, he's going to just......

(The ride back is silent. Yuno doesn't question the abrupt halt to their day and had pulled on his clothes at a more sedate pace while Asta mounted his gelding and sat impatiently waiting. He can't even look at Yuno because he can't see things correctly, his mind is supplying him with images that make Asta wants to throw Yuno against a tree and... nothing good will come of Asta feeding into that train of thought, so he just doesn't look at him at all and only responds to Yuno's "have a good evening, Asta. I will see you tomorrow," with a tight nod and a "Alright," before hes stalking away from the stables and feeling more and more unhinged with every step he takes until he realizes that there's no way he's going to be able to temper himself this time, and the normal routine won't work because for once, for once, he wants to destroy something with his own hands and words and... oh, yes. Yes, yes, yes, that's perfect, he has the perfect way.......) 

It doesn't take long, not really, because the lean body beneath him bends so prettily and with every yank of hair accompanied by relentless driving deep and hard and 'oh, there we are,' the darkness pants to him, lapping it up because beneath him there's writhing and whining and voice breaking with every gasp of "Please," and "Asta." and "Oh God," and Asta's not completely sure that the begging is for more or for him to stop and that feeds that inky -thing- and he's reaching down to wrap his hands around (Haru? Yuno? Does it even matter anymore? Is there any distinction to him in this fucked up reality that he's created for himself?) and then they are both falling and floating and a complete mess but Asta's anger is trickling away and wasn't that the whole point of all of this? 

He's fine. Everything's fine. He's fine and it's ok and -he's fucking fine-...... 

........ He is. 

If he can ignore the tears falling from his eyes, and the gentle way that Haru (cringing and limping and oh god Asta really is the worst kind of person that there ever has been) makes sure they are both clean and the quiet way the other man guides Asta back into his clothes and pulls on his own, and if he can ignore the way Haru leads him out of the (still opened, oh god oh god oh god) door with and understanding smile, and if he can ignore the soft whispered words in a language he doesn't understand as Haru makes sure he is handed off to an alarmingly blank faced Noelle. If he can ignore the way he feels as if his world is unraveling at the seams, ignore the heavy sidelong glances as he's guided through the common area and to his room where he's tucked into bed like Sister Lily used to back when he was much much younger than he is now. If he can ignore the way he shivers yet feels no cold, feels nothing at all but that drifting weightlessness he chases desperately while simultaneously attempting to keep himself anchored. But Yuno is his anchor, and always has been. 

So. So. It's not if he can ignore it, it's that he has no other choice because even if Yuno doesn't really need him Asta is a selfish person deep down in the place that he hides from everyone else and he just can't let him go by letting himself go.

Noelle settles on a chair beside his bed where he has curled up much like he used to after waking up from a nightmare (blue eyes, vicious teeth, a searing pain across his right side) by Yuno and his eyes grow heavy as her fingers run through his hair and she starts humming a tune he's heard her hum while immersed in some mindless chore. He's the Captain of the Black Bulls. He's damaged in the worst sort of ways. He is probably the strongest person in the Kingdom, physically. He is repected by his Squad (for the most part), and has come further than anyone back in the village every believed he could go. He shouldn't be curled up like a child, dry tracks of tears on his cheeks and head throbbing. He shouldn't be such a coward. He shouldn't be so -weak.- He shouldn't......

He's fine. Everything's fine. 

He's fine. 

(Tendrils of darkness lovingly stretch out against his mental wall in a strange paraody of a hug, winding and curling and -full.- There's cracks that it prods at in curiosity before retreating again, sated.

For now.)


	18. COTM Commissioned Art

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this beautiful piece! ❤️❤️

[Link to Commissioned Art for COTM](https://www.deviantart.com/kuumiart/art/Black-Clover-Mine-815352033)

[Link to commissioned Art for COTM](https://www.instagram.com/p/B3IRnzIlL0o/)


	19. (Dreams of Memories...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://discord.gg/BV64tA
> 
> Will I make it out Alive (feat. Jessie Early) Tommee Profitt
> 
> This isn't what I had originally planned for this next chapter, but they demanded it be now before anything else, and since I would actually like to go back to finishing the next big chapter I gave in. Necessary info.

**Years ago**

The Wizard King lay draped across his ornate throne with one fist propping up his head against his chin, elbow perched on the left arm of the throne while his legs drape over the right. His thick red robe lined in white fur tumbles around his relaxed form and his booted feet are pointed toes to the ceiling. His purple eyes are narrowed and hooded in a sleepy sort of way stare at the younger man standing before him. After a strange silent stare off where neither of them blink, the younger males gaze defiant and stubborn, Julius heaves a heavy and loud sigh, rolling his gaze upwards in exasperation. This is just one of the many reasons he is glad to finally be able to hand the title of Wizard King over to someone else, whoever that may be. Things can sometimes be so damn tedious and he generally hates having to be the bearer of heart breaking news. He derives no pleasure from it, unlike some others. 

"I understand your desire to do so," he starts, juggling words around in his mind to try and find the best way to come out with what needs to be said. "It's just not going to be possible, no matter if I approve or not. The nobles won't accept it and you cannot beat them all into submission if they all challenge you at once." His mind is quickly pulling up ideas and discarding them faster than a blink of an eye. He truly does understand but what he has said is also true and no matter how powerful the young man standing before him has become, he wouldn't be able to fight them all if they decided to try. Julius doesn't see the big deal himself but unless the current Clover King were to change the rules he cannot see this request ever being possible. Not unless they were able to somehow maneuver the King into changing the rules or wait until a new King ascended the throne. Or, Julius jokes to himself, the current one is overthrown.....

…..Julius sits up so quickly he nearly falls right off of his throne, purple eyes widening as a wonderfully dangerous and excitingly treasonous idea enters his head and sticks there. It's an insane idea. Insane and glorious and as his lips curl into a small devious smile and he eyeballs the determined young face infront of him he knows without the shadow of a doubt that the young man would be willing to do anything to get what he wants and this is all so wonderfully -perfect.- He unfurls his body and stands up, moving close enough to clasp his hands on the other man's slender shoulders, his teeth bared in a vicious smile. 

"Only someone who holds power over the entire Kingdom could make something like that happen," Julius half whispers in an elated conspiratorial type way, "So.... what do you say? Should we make you into an Emperor?"

He watches in giddy excitement as golden eyes widen as well and then spark to light in a way that Julius is all too familiar with because it's the look he gets in his own eyes when he is being particularly conniving and is the way his eyes are probably looking right now. Soon there is a sly little smile curving the lips of the other man's mouth and then hands are wrapping around Julius' forearms and tightening as if the younger man needs to ground himself. Julius can feel the swell of the younger man's power, cool and crisp and so very sharp, and Julius feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"Yes," the other man whispers like a prayer, a sort of hunger crossing his face and Julius knows without a doubt that they are about to change everything.

"Good," he laughs as a thrill runs from his toes to the tips of his fingers, "now, let's get to planning. But first, lets go crown you as the new Wizard King." 

It might not be the most moral decision Julius has ever came to, what with him planning to dethrone the current Clover King, but... well... when has that ever stopped him from doing whatever he wants to do?

**Current**

Yuno wakes slowly, the end of the memory fading away as he comes out of the dream. He continues to lay there for a few minutes, blissfully able to be alone for a little longer until there is a knock at his door and he sighs silently. Klaus opens the door as he is sitting up and Yuno can see the three servants behind him, hands full of fabrics and furs and who knows what else for the wedding. He doesn't really care. They all enter as Klaus moves towards the side of the bed he is swinging his legs over and the servants line up against the far wall, silent and waiting. 

"Today is the day," Klaus murmers completely unnecessarily, as if Yuno could forget, and he runs a hand across his face tiredly before standing up and raising his arams over his head in a stretch. He notes idly that the sun has barely begun to rise. 

"Yes," he says slow and soft, eyes drifing over to the servants. He lets out another silent sigh before he moves towards them, "Today is the day." 

If there is a weird note to his voice... well... no one comments on it. 

There's definitely no turning back now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So someone pointed out that this chapter makes it seem like Yuno made a deal in order to become King, and I want to clarify. This chapter’s flashback goes back to slot directly in front of the very first chapter, the scene happens the same day as Yuno being crowned as the Wizard King. He was not given the title, he earned it the proper way that every Wizard King does, even though I never wrote it out. The title was earned legitimately, the “crowning” was just for the public’s eye. I repeat, NO DEALS were made to put Yuno there, and no deal was made to make Yuno the Clover King in which they combined the two titles for him alone as “Emperor.” 
> 
> There was planning, and lots of politicking to get Yuno on the Clover Throne by throwing the Clover King (Augustus) off of it, but by the time that move was made Yuno had the backing of pretty much everyone because of how successful he was as Wizard King and how much people respected his power. 
> 
> I hope that makes things a bit clearer. Sorry for any confusion.


	20. ...Melded...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gomen, gomen, gomen. 
> 
> Life. I have no excuses that are enough to make me feel better, so hopefully this chapter will do. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for sticking with me! 
> 
> (The pugs bit my ankles to make me finish this chapter.) 
> 
> Also.... done on my phone so I apologize for mistakes.

Asta, despite what people may think, is not an inherently nosey person. He does not go out of his way to sneak around and listen to conversations on purpose. Unfortunately for him, it just tends to happen that he most of the time finds himself in the position of stumbling upon conversations anyways. 

This particular one he could have seriously done without. With a building sense of anger and doom he knows he should just turn around and leave and make excuses later for his not arriving on time. 

From behind the closed door leading to Yuno’s study, Asta can hear clearly. His hand, poised to knock, now hangs frozen in the air inches away from the wood. Despite his usual ability to keep his expressions carefully schooled, his jaw drops. 

“I’ve had enough, Yuno,” Princess Lunary’s voice raises up to barely just below shouting level, anger and exasperation tinting her honey accented words, “I’ve let it go on for long enough.” 

Asta lets his arm fall back down to his side, hanging limply as a sense of fear and numbness starts to creep throughout his body. He blinks rapidly and consciously tugs the darkness into the far back portion of his mind where he knows he can keep it under control. 

“I didn’t know Asta until now, and I am done. This has gone on long enough, and I refuse to let it go on any longer.” There’s a loud think as if something has been dropped before, “You will do something about him soon, or I will.” 

Asta takes in a sharp breath, mind going fuzzy but clear enough still to note that there is no reply from Yuno. He hastily backs up down the hallway a few paces at the sound of footsteps nearing the door and poises himself as if in midstep just as the wooden door is flung open for Lunary to glide through. 

There’s a thunderous expression twisting up her beautiful face and an unreadable complicated look replaces it as her cold eyes slide over to where Asta stands. The silent pause is charged with something unpleasant but as Asta opens his mouth to offer an empty greeting, Lunary simply pivots on her heel to present her back to him and heads in the opposite direction leaving Asta blinking and confounded. 

He hesitates for a few moments longer, the sound of Princess Lunary’s footsteps rattling around in his brain until he forces himself back before the door that had closed again and knocks on it three times. There is another long pause too long to be considered polite before Yuno’s voice asks him to enter. Asta pulls the door open and the slight freak of the hinges grates over his already frazzled nerves. Yuno is standing behind his desk seemingly organizing papers but Asta notes the blank look on his face and the bags beneath his eyes and the way that his normally proud shoulders slump with a curious sort of clinical detachment. 

He stops just before The desk and executed a proper bow, eyes ripping away and his heart skipping a beat. In an attempt to break the tense atmosphere in the room he forces himself to smile and jokingly rob at Yuno. 

“Isn’t it bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding ceremony?” 

There is a strange sort of heaviness to the silence that follows his barb and after a few unbearable beats Asta forces himself to look at Yuno again as he straightens up from the bow. 

Yuno looks..... unexplainably somber. His golden eyes seem dull and shift between Asta’s own before completely brushing over his entire face as if trying to rebrand it into memory. Embarrassingly enough this makes Asta a little hot under the collar of his formal clothes so he clears his throat and watches as Yuno’s eyes slide slowly back up to meet his own. 

“Well, how do I look?” Asta spreads his arms out to the sides with a slightly wobbly smile, showing off the dark ash grey ensemble that had been picked out for him by Yuno after the man had unceremoniously announced that Yuno would be standing at his side for the wedding as his official witness. 

Yuno walks around to him, looking devastating in his black shirt and green and gold vest lined in dark red, crown say perfectly over his head and hair French plaited and nearer than normal. Asta has to hold his breath as his heady scent invades his sense of smell when Yuno reaches up to brush his fingers through Asta’s unruly bangs. 

Yuno gives a low hum and then from his trouser pocket pulls out a long piece of .... Asta quirks his brow as he looks at it, mesmerized by the way Yuno runs it through his long fingers. It’s the tie Yuno normally keeps in his own hair, Asta is sure of it, but Yuno steps around behind him easily and smoothly and the question brewing on Asta’s lips dies breathlessly as long fingers start to comb through his hair to pull the front half of it back. 

Yuno ends up managing to get his hair in some sort of order, deftly tying it off in a half up-half down pony tail at the back of his head. When Asta feels hands settle on his shoulders and warm breath caress his right ear he startles badly but Yuno’s iron grip on his shoulder keeps him rooted to the floor. 

“There,” Yuno mumbles and Asta nearly swears he can feel the other man’s lips brush against his ear in a kiss but knows it’s probably his imagination, “now you are perfect. Come, then. We have a wedding to finish getting ready for.” 

Even though Asta hears Yuno leaving the room he stands there frozen for a couple of minutes alone, viciously wrestling to regain his composure and desperately trying to ignore the uneasiness he feels at the silent stillness that is the darkness in the back of his mind. 

He doesn’t want to admit it to himself that instead of feeling relieved at this, he feels foreboding instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -whispers- 
> 
> .... and all hell shall break loose......


	21. (Tick Tock, Tock Tock, The Hands go tick tick)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 👀👀
> 
> Genesis By Ruelle. That’s the song that inspired this chapter. Short but important. Was going to make it into all one big chapter but figured this break up would be better. Please enjoy 🥴
> 
> 👀👀 
> 
> The pugs say to Buckle in, lovelies.

The palace itself was more decked out for the wedding than it had been for Yuno’s coronation. Asta mildly notes that it must have cost Yuno and the kingdom a fortune, but he supposed “happy wife, happy life” had to come from somewhere. Besides, Yuno and Lunary would only marry once in their lives so they might as well go all out. 

-Unless she dies...- the dark thought whispers gleefully from the back of his mind and he has a moment of elation at the thought before stamping it out like smoldering coals as to not let it catch fire. Taking a deep breath center himself he maneuvers through everyone to the very front of the smaller ballroom that had been briefly been converted into a “chapel” of sorts for the ceremony. Noelle flitters up from who knows where with a reluctant Klaus hovering behind her and Asta takes a moment to study both of their faces. 

Neither look particularly ecstatic nor do they look as if they disagree. It’s an interesting thing to note, he thinks, since both of them have always been quite transparent on how they feel about things in general. 

Noelle reaches out and grabs his right hand with her left, eyes serious and grip firm. Asta crooks a half bitter smile as they stare at each other, having a conversation without words until Klaus breaks the silence with “Well, we all expect today to go off without a hitch....” he takes off his glasses to seemingly occupy himself with cleaning the lenses as Noelle shoots him a scathing glare before turning back to Asta and stepping closer so her whisper can be heard. 

“I know this is hard for you, Asta,” (and Asta admits begrudgingly that she really does know since he has confided in her so many times), “but.... but listen to me, Asta. No matter what happens or is said today, you have to keep your calm.” Asta nearly scoffs as he rolls his eyes but Noelle shakes him by the hand she is holding and the strange expression on her face intensifies. “I am serious, Asta. No. Matter. What.” 

Asta ruminates on that for a moment as he stares into Noelle’s eyes before finally squeezing her hand with his own and giving her a soft smile, the darkness tickling the back of his mind teasingly. 

“No worries, Noelle,” he says lightly as the musicians start up to signal everyone to be seated for the ceremony and the rings that Asta has been charged with seem to heat up in his breast pocket and burn him through his clothing, “I’ll be the perfect gentleman.” 

Noelle has a conflicted look on her face but nods anyways before moving off with Klaus. 

As Yuno appears and stands beside him, Asta wishes he could say something encouraging but finds himself unable to do so as the ceremonies begin.....


	22. Into Something Unrecognizable....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, so sorry for the delay. I know the apology doesn't do much, but I hope that the chapter does and meets expectations!! Love you all for sticking with me!!
> 
> As always, the Pugs made me do it (and there's six of them now.... the puppy is vicious and bites my ankles to make me write faster).
> 
> Beethoven- Fur Elise Klutch Remix  
Ruelle- Genesis   
Ruelle- Madness  
Selphius- Still Doll  
Escala- Requiem for a Tower  
Kanon Wakeshima- Suna no Oshiro  
Davy Jones  
Danse Macabre

Asta knows he shouldn't drink tonight as well as he knows that the sky is blue and the grass is green and he is obsessively in love with Yuno. He knows this and yet .... and yet.... he darts his hand out to snatch yet another crystal glass of alcohol off of a silver platter being carried by a nameless servant who doesn't even flinch at the sudden movement. He had stopped counting... a long while ago. The top ties of his formal shirt have been undone and part open nearly to the bottom of his chest, showing off more skin than appropriate for a formal occasion, let alone a wedding, but he honestly doesn't care and there is no one present who would dare scold him as a Captain of the Bulls other than Yuno and.... well, he is a bit busy.

Asta's green eyes slide back to Yuno, watching the ma as he has always and will always watch him. He really wants to look away, to leave, but how could he when Yuno has asked for him to stay? And he can never refuse Yuno anything when he is asked. He wonders mildly if he has a sort of emotional hurt kink before letting a breath out in a long sigh. 

Yuno has let the restrictive braid loosen and fall over one shoulder. He has lost his formal jacket and vest, his black shirt rolled up to his elbows at the sleeves, showing off his strong yet slender forearms. Asta finds himself gazing at them, imagining running his tongue over the veins as he takes another long sip from his drink, until a delicate hand slides down it's length and causes Asta to turn his gaze to it's owner. 

He loathes her with a passion unrivaled. She is the picture of perfection in her luxurious silk gown of burgundy red lined in glittering gold with golden threads weaving complicated patterns and holding expensive beads and jewels close. Her cold blue eyes are even more striking outlined in thick dark khol and her luminous hair falls down her back and shoulders under the heavy veil that is tradition of her kingdom. Every step of the "first dance" they make as bonded husband and wife makes Asta feel just a little more unbalanced.... just a little more sick. 

Knowing it's a horrible idea but doing it anyways leads to one more drained glass with another full one quickly replacing it. His eyes catch Klaus and Noelle dancing together not too far from Yuno, and Asta also notes the previous Wizard King (who had officiated the frankly long and boring ceremony) dancing with Lunary's fathers' new wife, not named Queen, but as one of his many "wife concubines." 

There's a nice fuzziness to the edge of Asta's thoughts and he welcomes it rather than shies from it as he watches Yuno spin Lunary in a complicated dance maneuver Asta could never hope to execute himself, not that it matters because Asta has no desire to dance with anyone..... ever.... that isn't the one person he cannot have and cannot dance with. 

He prowls the far edges of the ballroom, hugging close to the walls and his eyes rarely leaving the dancing couple. He can feel something hungry burning within him but ignores it in favor of grabbing another glass of alcohol. As he sips at the glass via his left hand he reaches out to ground himself with his right, fingertips trailing along the rough stone wall as he continues one slow step at a time. 

He can feel his lips tugging up at the corners in a twisted smile as Yuno twirls Lunary and then dips her low enough that the stunning and heavy head veil she is wearing slips from her head to heap on the polished floor. They pause there, staring into each others' eyes in a way that to Asta appears disgustingly besotted, and his hand tightens enough around his glass that it quietly splinters and breaks and he doesn't even feel the glass biting into his flesh or the blood that wells up and slides down his wrist. 

He shakes his hand out, dropping the glass and a spattering of blood onto the floor before moving again, fingers searching and finding another glass that he immediately bloodies with his hand. He turns his gaze to it for a moment, a strange heaviness weighing down his thoughts before he looks for Yuno once more, almost feverishly. 

Surprisingly, he ends up catching gazes with Lunary as the song they are dancing to comes to a close. Neither of them move, resting for the next song to begin, and Asta practically welcomes the darkness creeping into the forefront of his mind. He knows he should be wary, should be on guard, but he's just so.... so.... SO very tired. Tired of hiding his feelings, tired of loving someone he cannot have, and tired of just ... being. Living. Not even living, merely existing. He's so very exhausted.

As a new song starts Asta breaks the stare off with Lunary by closing his own eyes and taking in a deep breath that he then holds. 

~~Hmmmmmmmm~~   
Asta doesn't even tense at the sound reverberating in his mind. Instead he takes another long sip of his drink and relishes in the thick cold as it rolls oerhis tongue and down the back of his throat. There's a soft, breathy chuckle he knows no one else can hear and quite suddenly he finds himself within his own minds eye, staring at a rather odd sight. 

His demo is not.... how henormally is. Instead of an oppressive force looking menacing and hoering over him in inky blackness, the demon is instead..... well. Normal sized. And sitting at a small round table with two chairs sipping... sipping tea? 

Asta approaches warily, eyeing the demon and wondering what exactly is going on as the demo beginst to shift and change shape before Asta's eyes until it's not a demon sitting there at all but rather a version of Asta with black hair, red eyes, a thin long curling horns that bend back away from it's head to point behind him.

"Welcome," the silky voice Asta is so used to hearing inside of his own mind puurs out, the demon eyeing him almost like delicious prey and yet still somehow pitying. "I imagine you are wondering what you are doing here since you have always kept such strict control over me since we first met." Astawatches the reflectio of hisown face split into a slightly deranged smile and does not respond because.... well, the demon is correct afterall. And he's so very tired anyways. The demon stretches languidly and then stands to approach Asta who is still standing stiff as a board, especially as the demon reaches out to trail his long fingers under Asta's chin to force him to look up into the demon's startingly crimson eyes. 

"You have my solemn vow I shall do nothing nefarious if you let me have a bit of control. You will still be here as well, but unable to feel the full force of your emotions since I will take the brunt of them away from you." The demon pauses here and then leans forward, lips brushing disturbingly against Asta's own as he whispers, "Let me shoulder your pain for you, my master...." Fingers grasp at his jaw tightly as the demons lips brust the tip of Asta's nose, "Let me be of use to you...." 

And Asta....

Asta knows he shouldn't. This conniving manupulation is exactly why he has kept this inner demo of his locked away so tightly. But.... But....

The brief flash of Yuno and Lunary kissing at the Altar to seal their bond, everyone in attendance clapping and hooting and whistling slapping him in the face so hard that he loses his breath and he knows it's the demon. He knows his walls are down. He knows that the demon is taking advantage of all of that. 

But Asta..... 

He is so very tired of being in control. He is so tired of fighting parts of himself, big parts. He's tired of loving Yuno. He's tired of pining. But mostly?

Mostly?

Mostly he is just tired of being Asta. 

He opens his eyes slowly (he hadn't even realized that he had closed them) and he can't tell immediately that the demon already knows what he is going to say but sees his own face, twisted in color as it is, patiently waiting and kind. 

Asta feels tears burning in his eyes as he realizes just how done he is with everything. With life. He doesn't say anythin of this out loud but he doesn't have to because in a moment of startling clarity he realizes that the demon -IS- him. Has been a major part of him for such a long time and has felt and been through everything that Asta has. He reaches up, slowly, to cup the side of the demons face, the near reflection of hisown, and draws them together so that their foreheads touch. 

"Yes,' he whispers so quietly it's almost no sound at all, a simple breath of a breeze between leaves. He takes a deep breath, watches as red eyes begin to glow brightly as they stare into his own, and feels the smiling curve of lips beneath his own as he kisses there first, and then kisses the demons cheeks on either side before pulling back. The demons hand leaves his chin and fingers travel up to brush the tears falling from Asta's eyes and those fingers draw back stained red with blood that the demon licks slowly away, facial expression promising something... something....

And Asta's world erupts in a blazing heat as the demon returns the gesture of kissing his cheeks and murmers, just as quietly, "I'll protect you then...."


	23. Commissioned Art

https://www.deviantart.com/kuumiart/art/Commission-Descent-828533491


	24. (And save me from my spiral)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuses, and this isn’t even a full chapter, still just a teaser. No excuses but, I’ve been ill (not the Rona) and staying at home alone all day with the child has me completely burnt out by the end of the day. There’s more I could spout as excuses but really I shouldn’t even spout them. The actual full chapter is almost complete and then I’ll send it to my beta (I have one finally!) and send it out. 
> 
> I’m so very sorry and thank you to everyone that is still holding on!

-Ah, Yes,- the Demon thinks to himself as the world shifts and he has to blink at the bright lights of the ballroom a few times. Yes, this is much better. To be able to take control, even just partially, is like stretching long forgotten muscles. He takes a moment to take in the scents and sounds, absentmindedly bringing you the glass in his hand to take a tiny sip of the alcohol within just to be able to savor the flavor. It runs thick and sweet over his borrowed tongue and he feels the corner of his temporary lips curling into a pleased little smile. He vaguely can feel the buzz his human vessel is feeling but it doesn’t effect him as much. The red of the blood on the glass distracts him momentarily and he smiles even wider at that, sliding his tongue out against the side of the glass to taste it, because there’s nothing more divine than the blood of his host. It just so happens that as he does so he glances up towards the general direction where Lunary and Yuno were last seen and his green eyes, ringed in red as they are, meet the intense gold of Yuno’s. 

There’s a suspended moment where they just stare at each other before the Demon feels a deep seated curl of satisfaction at the same time that a surge of intense sorrow washes over him. -Ah, yes,- he thinks as he continued to clean the glass of the blood staining it with his tongue, eyes hungry and assessing as Yuno’s gaze falls to the tongue against glass. -Yes, this will be deliciously wonderful,” the Demon settles on the thought as he delicately deposits the empty and bloodless glass on a nearby table, eyes burning and borrowed heart thumping a quick rhythm as he deliberately looks away from Yuno to scan the nearby crowd until his eyes settle on a cute little thing- all lithe dark tanned body, blonde hair and dark eyes (the exact opposite of Yuno in every way), and the smile turns feral as he stalks towards the unknown male, offering a suitably hungry yet charming smile at the younger male as he notices his approach. 

-Yes,- he purrs inwardly towards himself and his current host “passenger,” who currently is giving off confused vibes but the Demon sends back comforting assurances, wordlessly, as his borrowed voice (dripping in honey and sin and causing the younger man standing before him to tremble I’m suppressed and startled want) asks for a dance which is eagerly accepted. 

He doesn’t look towards Yuno as he gathers the smaller male in his arms, red ringed eyes fever bright and hypnotizing his partner, but he feels the intensity of his attention anyways and well .... 

Well. 

-I can work with that,- he promises his host and himself as he presses his hand against his partners lower back to bring them flush together, the smell of arousal and some fear making his mouth water as he guides his dance partner across the floor, seemingly completely absorbed in him. 

Yeah. 

He can work with burning golden eyes scowling his way.


	25. And I float like Oil on Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This.... has a mind of its own. This was never supposed to be a thing but, it insisted. 
> 
> The pugs.....

The heat at Yuno’s elbow cues him into the presence of Klaus’ disapproval. He can tell pretty much immediately that Klaus is focused on what he is focused on himself without even having to glance in the other mans direction. Despite the heavy atmosphere between them, Klaus presses a full flute of something rich and sweet into his hand quietly as they watch. 

Asta is....

Well. 

The younger male he has plucked out of the crowd is clearly enamored. All wide eyes and bright smile, allowing Asta to guide him in their second dance yet, preening at every brush of fingers in the strip of flesh that peers out from beneath his shirt as they dance. 

Yuno takes a long drag of his newly acquired drink and allows his gaze to fall hooded even as he follows the pairs progress across the dance floor. To his other side, another presence presses even heavier and more expectant. He drags his eyes away to glance to the side and up, where he meets the eyes of Julius. The older man is likewise gazing at him sidelong though there is a very obvious discontented slant to his mouth. His voice is low, whisper soft when he finally speaks. 

“When we spoke so long ago, just before your coronation, this is not where I thought we would all end up,” Julius pauses and then hums, eyes slanting to follow Asta and his partner as they dominate the dance floor, brows furrowed in contemplation. “I do not think....” he starts and pauses, watching as Asta dips his partner with a flourish and the wild grin that accompanied the action.... all three standing in watch catching the movement of hip against hip, groin against groin, a hungry young mouth gasping up towards Asta’s own. “I don’t think that this is going to turn out the way you were thinking it would, Yuno.....” 

Yuno hears him but really? It’s too late now. It doesn’t matter. It’s simply a torturous waiting game, wondering through every single moment of the day. So, he says, “It doesn’t matter,” he mumbles just as Noelle sidles up as well, all wary eyes and tense shoulders. “We continue on as planned.” 

He downs the rest of the drink in his hand, handing the empty back to Klaus as he flicks his eyes towards where Lunary is dancing with her father. Noelle makes a strange sound in the back of his throat and apparently decides to speak up, because soon her voice is rumbling out behind him. 

“You are not weighing the risks. You aren’t calculating Asta’s response, and you -know-.... I have -told- you how unstable he....” 

But Yuno doesn’t hear the rest of what she’s going to say. He doesn’t hear it because his vision has gone white hot around the edges and his body has gone numb, and he can’t even feel his own tongue anymore. He stumbles sideways, crashing into Julius who scrabbles to clutch onto him with a sound of shock, and the noise and disruption seems to immediately draw the attention of most of the part goers, including Asta who lets go of his dance partner with very little care. 

There’s a moment between heartbeats where Yuno thinks “oh, his red eyes are beautiful,” and then his heart stutters and his breath catches and he’s falling, falling, falling and the only thing he can think of is “Oh. I’ve miscalculated drastically.” 

And then everything goes black, and Yuno doesn’t think of anything anymore.


	26. I'm the BAD guy

The Willow Maid- Erutan  
Shatter Me- L. Stirling  
Secret- The Pierces  
Once Upon A Dream- Lana Del Ray  
Satisfaction- Isak Instrumental- Benny Benassi

The funny thing about letting his demon take control is that he doesn't really... force it. Asta wasn't so adverse to it, anyways, but   
that kind of helps the overall situation. He lounges back, carefree, as the Demon whisks a very attractive male into a provocative dance   
and appreciates the fact that he can simply watch. There is a moment, though.... just a moment where the Demon shifts it's attention off  
to the side as he twirls his partner and dips the other male where his gaze slants towards Yuno as he lifts his drink up and takes a long  
swig. There's a moment where Asta (as cut off as he is from his main feelings and unable to physically react regardless) takes in the   
sight, longingly, and then rapidly feels his own horror as a strange look crosses Yuno's fave before it goes slack and he watches Yuno   
collapse to the ground as if in slow motion. The Demon pauses as well, letting go of his dance partner and not even caring that the male   
hits the floor harshly. 

-No,- he thinks. His demon thinks? They both think together? It twists up so quickly and tightly that Asta isn't quite sure who is   
thinking what at this point. The one thing he does know, however, is that Yuno is slumped onto the floor and there are people surrounding   
him and panicking. Panic isn't good. Not good. Not Good. NOT GOOD.

His feet, controlled still by the demon, carry him closer and closer to Yuno. Close enough to where he can see his waxy pale face, hear   
his barely there shallow breathing, track the sluggish beat of -his heart.- He (they?) watch almost detached as people panic and scurry   
and try to save Yuno and Asta.... Asta and his demon? His demon alone? Is there... is there a difference? Asta wonders idly if he is losing  
his mind but... but then they reach down and pick up the cup that Yuno had been drinking from and lift it to their nose in order to take a   
deep inhale, cateloging the scents. There's a bunch of them, of course there is, but there... there, lying so deep and probably would have  
been missed by someone not... well, them.... there is a scent that makes their nose twitch and their jaw clench tightly. There. There it   
is. And Asta.. his demon... THEY know that scent. They know it and, oh. 

They drop the cup and it clatters to the floor and rolls away, startling Klaus and Noelle who jerk around to stare at him wide eyed. He  
watches their faces change from surprise to dispair, bodies tensing as they straighten up and move to stand between him... them... and Yuno's   
slack prone body on the ground. Lunary... Lunary has made her way over, eyes for once showing real concern, but they.... they.......

Oh, they are furious. They haven't been so angry in their entire existance. They need, they need.... they need to find.... 

Red ringed eyes rip away from Yuno and focus in almost obsessively onto the Spade Kingdom's King who is standing well back away from all  
of the commotion with a carefully blank facial expression. That. That won't do. That won't do AT ALL.

There's a still and quiet moment where nothing at all happens and then... 

And then.....

-Unacceptable,- his demon whispers in their shared mind and in a mental blink they are standing before the Spade Kingdom's King, Lunary's father,  
and despite the fact that they are shorter and smaller, they practically loom over the man as he startles and shrinks back away from them.   
Their lips curl into a smile that is all teeth and absolutely no kindness and they lash out quick as a snake to wrap a hand around the neck of  
the foreign king, eyes flashing and mouth watering. 

The Spade King scrabbles at their forearm as he is pushed back against a wall and then lifted by his neck. The strangle hold becomes more serious   
as the press harder to watch the Kings face begin to purple and his flailing to weaken. The smell... smells... they got them all. They   
identified them all. And, well..... well. They will take care of each of those scents responsible for Yuno being poisoned one at a time,   
happily. 

The man in their grasp is turning blue in the face and rasping out pleading words and there is a very brief moment where Asta wants to let him go. Let him scurry away. But. But.

The demon pushes the memory of watching Yuno fall to the ground, poisoned, and how the scents on the glass has him here in front of the most prominant one and, well. Well. Even without the demon   
in control, Asta has always had very poor control on his impulses. So... so 

It's not really a question, then, what they are going to do. The demon croons inside their mind before reaching up with his free hand and ripping the King's throat out, reveling in the hot spray of blood that paints itself over their face. The startled eyes and open mouth of their first victim is euphoric and they find themselves licking their lips and tasting the lifeblood as they drop the dead sack of   
flesh to their feet. They take a moment to run their fingers through the blood on their face before sucking their fingers into their mouth and savoring the iron thick taste before turning around slowly to take stock of their surroundings. 

From the look on everyone elses' faces, they may have to force them to accept it all.


	27. Then We Find Ourselves Breaking....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Control- Halsey  
Hurt- Johnny Cash  
Dig Down- Muse  
Painting Greys- Emmit Fenn  
Super Massive Black Hole - Muse

They take their time. 

Overall, it's not surprising. Why should they rush anyways? With blood dripping from their hands and their chin, it doesn't really matter anymore. They meander unimpeded to a table full of alcohol, glasses full of all sorts of colored spirits winking merrily despite the murderous rage slithering through the room. They consider them all, fingers reaching out to trail over all of the rims of the glasses and leaving red streaks behind. They choose one colored a rich amethyst (of fucking course they do, was it even a choice really?) and savor the sweet thickness as it rolls over their tongue and down their throat. It's super thick and twice as rich and... well, perfect really. 

They close their eyes to savor it for a moment, tuning out hysterical sobbing and outraged screaming, placing the glass almost reverently back down on the table and taking a large steadying breath before full lips curl into a devilish smile. In their perifery they can hear those tending to Yuno becoming even more frantic... can hear the stuttered breathing and the ever sluggish heartbeat and they know. They know with a certainty that should be frightening that they will absolutely consume the entire Clover Kingdom... and the Spade Kingdom... as soon as Yuno's heart stops beathing. They will, and they will show no mercy to anyone, no matter their age or sex or religion or how wonderfully they beg. 

Because Asta? Asta and his Demon? 

Well. 

Because for them, there is nothing other than Yuno... and if Yuno is no longer around, then there is nothing left for them and they might as well burn the entire world to the ground because nothing will ever MATTER if Yuno is gone. 

There's nothing. 

They vaguely acknowledge that Klaus, Noelle, Julius and Yami (really? This amuses them, for some reason they cannot pinpoint) are positioning themselves in a defensive stance in the four corners of the ballroom, eyeballing them with more than a small amount of unease. Most of the guests have fled, good for them, but he doesn't pay that any mind because he is looking for specific people... specific scents that are still hovering within the ballroom to their pleasure. Asta ... his Demon.... both of them let out a little moan as they lick more blood off of their lips and let their red ringed eyes roam the room in search of.... in search of....

Ah. There. 

Lips curl into a deceptively kind smile as they freeze and then... flicker... until they are standing behind a servant of the castle, arms wrapped around their torso and chest in a mockery of a tender embrace. They slide their cheek along the curve of her neck, taking in a deep breath to ensure that -yes- this is another scent on Yuno's poisoned cup. The servant freezes beneath them though their skin still trembles in fear as they teasingly runs sharp canines against the side of her throat. 

"You gave Yuno his cup," they rasp out, a strange warble somewhere between Asta's voice and the Demon's, and they both preen as the woman in their grasp tenses up even further and lets out a distressed sound. They track the movement of the others carefully, almost detached, as they push their hips agaisnt the womans rear and grin against her skin. The woman starts trembling, hyperventilating. so they dig their fingers into her hips and hiss a warning that has her going very still. "Who....." they whisper the question quitely, one hand snaking around to slide up and clench fingers into the flesh of the servant, "Who gave the poison to you, and what did they offer?" They start to squeeze and the woman gasps and starts to flail, attempting to breathe. 

"I can't hear you," they croon into her ear, catching the lobe with their teeth. The woman gasps and sobs and.... finally. Finally she gives them what they have known from the moment scents bombarded their nose and flooded them wtih knowledge, but they didn't want to believe. They didn't want to even try to -comprehend.....-

"Pl-please. Please, sir! It.... It was.. please I can't...... It was.... It was....." 

They open their jaw and place their teeth around the side of the female servants neck, a warning and a promise, and soon she is babbling like a freaking baby and they.... they knew. They knew but.....

"Please, please. It was Haruka, Sir, Please. Please. I was just doing what I was to-"

The rest of her sentence is gurgled out as their teeth sink into flesh and RIP, and they both have a moment of euphoric satisfaction as they gulp down a few mouthfuls of the pulsing blood before almost gently lowering the dead girl to the ground, using their fingers to close her eyes in a sick parody of gentleness and care. 

They stand up slowly, almost lethargically, and their eyes (nearly completely red at this point), sweep across those left in the room. They acknowledge vaguely that Yuno is in the energy cage healing thing Asta has only seen a few times before and -Good. That's good. Good but.. but not....-

Their eyes swirl and roam and... there. 

There he is. 

Off to the side, Lunary standing beside him and both hunched as if trying to escape notice, is Haruka. Haruka, whose once long hair is sheared short to his head, honeyed eyes panicked and pupils blown wide. Lunary's hands are clutching his right arm, forcing him to bend slightly over at the waist and they are both staring... staring right at....

Asta and his Demon -GRIN.- Lunary and Haruka are both staring at them as if they are a death sentence and.. well. 

Aren't they?

There is one... two... three seconds where nothing happens and then they are there, right in front of the two fucking -traitors- and reaching out with bloodstained fingers and a manic grin and then... then....

Then they are being hit from the side and sent flying into the wall, grunting at the impact and hardly phased but extremely confused. They pick themselves up out of the hole they have made, hands brushing away dust and whatever else before turning their eyes back towards their prey only to see... to see....

There's a line of people. Charmy, Luck. Noelle, Klaus, Julius and Yami stand there, a physical wall between Lunary and Haruka and.... Asta and his Demon. 

There is a moment where they don't compute. Their mind is mush, uncomprehending. 

And then there's anger. 

So, so much anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE PUGS MADE ME DO IT


	28. There's only One Thing that can Save me....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Headstrong- Trapt  
I will not Bow- Breaking Benjamin  
The diary of Jane- Breaking Benjamin  
Seether- Broken ft. Amy Lee  
Sweet Dreams- Eurythmics

It's been..... a while. 

They don't really keep track of the time. There's no real reason to anyways and when it will all be said and done it won't really matter. They are committed. They are angry. So, SO angry there's no words to even describe the hot burn of rage inside of them as they continue to relentlessly try to make their way to the two people they want to hold squealing and begging in their hands as they squeeze the life out of them. They want to see as the light leaves their eyes slowly, desperate pleading lost on ears that do not care to hear, and relish as their bodies go limp and eventually cold. He wants to rip them open post mortem and dump their blood in a tub to bathe in to his content. They want to rip out their eyes and bottle them so that they can admire the floating oculars at any point in time in the future and remember the pain and fear and death. They want to yank out their hair and weave it into long braids to hang from the walls so that they can remember what it was like to hold said strands in their hands as they cut them away from dead flesh. They want. THEY WANT.

Charmy is laying off to the side against the wall where her body had slid after they had knocked her unconscious. Klaus stands broad shouldered and eagle eyed in front of the cowering TRAITORS that they want to gut slowly and painfully. Yami, Noelle, and Julius are standing in front of Klaus, all in various stages of injury. Noelle is bleeding from her head, somewhere, streaks of thick blood making a trail down the left side of her face and her left eye purple and swollen shut. Yami's face is clear of injury but his shirt hangs half in tatters and a large patch of blood soaks his right side and a gash down his left arm weeps slowly. Julius is by far the best in shape of all of them- a single cut along his left cheekbone and a gash across his right thigh that is bleeding alarmingly but has not slowed him down very much. 

They take stock of their own injuries as the battle lulls for a long few beats. Their left shoulder is dislocated so in a jerking harsh movement they pop it back into place, hissing as it settles where it should be. They roll both of them backwards just to make sure and delights in the fact that there is only a dull pang that they can definitely ignore for now in favor of their overall goal. There is a gnarly gash across their nose that makes blood flood down into their mouth, but they just grin with bloody teeth and spit it to the side in thick globs. They are limping slightly on their left side and they are unsure as to why and are unwilling to look away from the enemies in to their front... because that's what their previous friends have become. Enemies. People to plow through in order to get to where they want to be. 

They assess the situation again, carefully, planning out a way to cause a gap. Unfortunately it's going to be a harder task than they originally thought with so many unexpected obstacles but... but. There is one person they are intimately familiar with, fighting and strategy wise, and so after a moment that feels like an eternity they strike fast and relentless and aiming to kill.

Noelle is unprepared. They had avoided targeting one person specifically this whole time, knowing that to turn their attention away from the other two could mean and instant death penalty, but they are getting frustrated and desperate and so... perhaps the others didn't expect them to target just one of them either because there is hardly any resistance as they flicker so fast into position that there is only time for Noelle's single clear pink eye to widen before they are shoving their hand through her chest, unconsciously aiming for just shy to the left of her heart. They feel bones cracking and skin and muscles tearing and revel... red ringed eyes wide and feral and locked onto her single working one. She gasps wetly and reaches her own small hands up to wrap around their straining forearm, coughing at the force of the energy and spraying their blood across their already blood stained face. 

"I- I t-told him," she gasps and chokes out, eye feverish and desperate. "I told him you would... I told him it wouldn't go as he...." She coughs and lurches as he pulls his hand from her chest with a sick squelch, staggering back in time for Julius to catch her in his arms and for Yami to form another barrier between them. Their eyes don't leave her bleeding, struggling with death form until Julius mumbles out thickly, "This is my fault..." And Yami, gruff as hell and angry as a snake snaps back viciously with, "No fucking kidding, dick wad. All of this is your fault, and Yuno's fault, and whatever God exists better save us because you all are such fuckin' idiots it ain't even funny." 

They lazily move their gaze to Yami, arm dropping to their side and dripping fresh hot blood onto the floor to join all of the rest as they mull over the exchange for a moment. After a while they shrug, uncaring of the intricacies of whatever happened or is happening because Yuno is probably already GONE and... and... 

They tense, ready to flick forward, Grimoire poised and ready for the most deadly spell they can think of and then...

And then....

And then everything slows to a screeching, wailing stop as they halt their forward projection in a manner that whips their now freed hair across their face, allowing them to believe for a moment that they are hallucinating. But no. No. They blink a few rapid times, their combined brains short circuiting and unable to comprehend as they take in the new sight before them. 

Sure, there is Yami standing in front of an injured Noelle being cradled by Julius. And there is Klaus, hunkered down in front of Lunary and Haru protectively. But... But then.....

But then there is …. Yuno? Yuno. YUNO. 

Yuno is standing there between where Julius is tending to Noelle and where Klaus is guarding the two people they want to rip apart with all of their being, looking pale and weak and supported by Mimosa (and when the fuck did she arrive?), but THERE. There in the flesh and breathing and ALIVE and everything in them just... bursts. Goes chaotic and not able to comprehend because Yuno was dead, or dying or.....

"Asta," Yuno rasps, golden eyes feverish and intent as they stare at each other and something in their chest LURCHES, flailing and painful and they grit their teeth and tense because it's fake, it's an illusion, there's no WAY that Yuno is standing before them and they are about to lose it completely, just destroy everything, and then the Yuno in front of them lurches away from Mimosa, stumbling and uncoordinated past everyone else, until he trips and falls straight into their arms.... a solid weight they hold up, a heat against their chest and arms and they just... they....

Golden eyes blaze as they look up into red and they are unprepared for the clammy hands that reach up and cradle their face, cupping their jaw with thumbs that brush against their cheekbones and fall down to rest on their lower lip as their red eyes widen, confused and guarded. Their whole reason for being, their whole entire world... is there. Cradling their face and looking at them with an expression they have never seen before and then... and then.... 

Yuno’s lips are on theirs. Hot and desperate and insistent, no explanation offered beforehand. There is a moment where they freeze, unsure... and then there is a loud crack in their mind accompanied by many other sounds of shattering within them and then.... and then....

There is a beat where the world tips and blurs and lurches before Asta slams back into himself fully, Demon silently slinking to the back of his consciousness, and his heart thumps easily once then twice then starts hammering into his ribcage like a sledgehammer and just.. just...

Fuck it. Fuck it all. He's so tired and so confused and so done that it's like absolute surrender when he wraps his arms around Yuno's shivering shoulders and hauls him closer, mouth opening hungrily and sucking the other man's tongue into his own mouth like someone starving. He feels slender fingers digging into his arms and he relishes in it, hips pressing forward and one hand reaching around to pull at the hairs at the base of Yuno's neck causing him to wrench away and gasp, eyes snapping open hazily to stare into Asta's now bright green ones, silence stretching between them tensely. There is a stretch of silence where Asta is unsure of what will happen and then Yuno, perfectly wonderful Yuno, offers him a shaky smile and then turns his chin to the side just enough so that his voice carries out over his shoulder to the rest of the people left in the room.

"Leave now, please." 

It's offered in a request format but is really a demand, and the others only hesitate briefly before obeying, Klaus the last one out the door and offering a very uneasy glance in their way. Yuno squeezes his fingers into Asta's arms again to gain his attention back from the fleeing others and gazes at Asta with years worth of secrets behind his eyes. "I thought I'd lost you," the dark haired man says softly as he leans forward to rest his forehead against Asta's own, uncaring of the blood still streaked across Asta's forehead and face, taking a few deep gulps of air as if he has been drowning. "I have so much to explain."


	29. Plots and Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I-
> 
> -Hides-

Yuno looks sickly pale and Asta realizes belatedly that the other man is shivering slightly as if too cold. 

They have moved to a corner of the room that is the least.... messy, Yuno's hands refusing to lose contact with any part of Asta. Asta, likewise, has his fingers still clutched in Yuno's hair, tabgled and messy as it is currently. There are heavy bags under Yuno's normally brilliant eyes. The gold is now going muted, dulled like a piece of gold left too long out in the sun and rain. Yuno's breaths are shallow, almost painful looking, while Asta's chest heaves like a horse who has just galloped miles without stopping. 

"You are.... were... poisoned," Asta's words rip out of him suddenly, cracked and raw around the edges as drags Yuno closer again, chests pressing together. He has to lean his head back just slightly in able to look up into Yuno's eyes and as his fingers tighten in those inky black strands, a full body shudder rolls from Yuno's toes to his eyes which close briefly on an exhale. Asta is... more than a little confused, really. He had seen Yuno go down, he had seen Yuno's chest slowing down with ever gasping breath he had tried to take, he had watched the color leech from his face. He had been so SURE that Yuno was dead, dying, leaving him to be alone in a world that would be worth nothing without Yuno in it. 

"They... they tried to KILL you," he snarls out, hissing on his exhale and yanking at Yuno's hair again, causing the other man to snap his eyes open again. 

Yuno smells wonderful and Asta cannot stop himself from tipping forward even more to bury his nose into the junction of Yuno's jaw and ear, inhaling long and deep, basking in the tickle of hair against his face. He squeezes his elbows inwards, pressing them firmly against Yuno's slender shoulders, committing the small gasp of breath that earns him to memory. "You were dead," he croaks, broken.

Yuno's hands slide up Asta's side and then his long, slender arms are curling over Asta's own shoulders and around the back of his neck, pressing them even further together if possible. Even their thighs and shoe-toes are touching, Yuno either unseeing or uncaring of the still wet and dried blood splattered over Asta's frame. 

After a few minutes of standing in silence and embracing, something Asta could do for the rest of his miserable existence, Yuno shifts. It's barely there, a simple weight distribution from heel to heel, but Asta feels it none the less and also knows that that means Yuno is... building up to something. He squeezes his eyes shut as tight as possible, savoring this for as long as he is able. 

"Asta…. you.... killed. Too many. I never... I never meant for you to...." Yuno chokes on his own whispered words and firmly maneuvers Asta two steps back although he makes sure that their hands find each other, his elegantly thin fingers twisting weakly up with Asta's own. There is a guarded, almost embarrassed look on Yuno's face that Asta doesn't really know how to interpret. 

"They killed you," he mumbles out, thumbs tracing circles on the back of Yuno's hands, "Or, well, they tried to kill you and that's... that's unforgivable." He feels the Demon perk up a bit in the back of his mind, eager like a puppy, and he has to nudge it back gently. It goes, pouting, and for some reason that makes Asta want to smile. Yuno's voice catches his attention once more, drawing him back out of his own thoughts to focus on the sallow but beautiful face in front of him. Yuno looks.... pained. 

"They... didn't." Yuno says unsteadily, face doing something complicated as he refuses to meet Asta's eyes for a moment. Asta rears his head back, brows furrowing and lips twisting into a snarl. 

"Of course they-" he starts, but...

"Let.. let me clarify. The Spade... King... was definitely planning on trying to murder me today but... but he was the only one truly trying. He was the one who wanted to poison me, to take over the Clover Kingdom. The... Lunary and... the others had nothing to do with-" 

And Asta.

He just.

Can't. He can't. A tide of disbelief and anger and grief wells back up inside of him, eyes stinging with tears of sadness or hostility, he isn't sure. He rips his hands away from Yuno's own, stumbling backwards a few more steps, arms hanging limp at his sides. His heart, once thumping quick and loud within his chest, seems to go nearly still, broken as it suddenly is. He gets the insane urge to flee again like he had so very many years ago, but his feet feel so heavy... so rooted to the ground now that he doubts he can move anymore. 

"You-" he stutters out, hoarse, bloodshot green eyes wide and shining with something a little too openly heartbroken. "Even after... even after everything you still... you still...." His voice hiccups and he realizes with a mortified lurch that he's fucking CRYING, why is he crying? "After everything you still.... love her so much? Enough to forgive... to forgive..." He chokes up, unable to breathe, and he just wants to... die. He just want's to die. He can't DO it anymore, he can't live with this anymore, he's so, so, SO...

Cold clammy palms find either side of his jaw, cupping it gently, fingers splaying and pressing into his cheekbones. Their eyes meet again, Yuno's startled and fearful and Asta's own full of heartache and defeat. They keep their eyes open and locked even as, trembling still, Yuno gives Asta one, two... three soft and tender pecks on the lips, tired and weary and... something... something...

"Asta," Yuno breathes out in that tone he only uses when he thinks that Asta is being particularly dense or ridiculous about something. "How could you not know? How could you possibly ever think.." He trails off and then slants his mouth over Asta's own, pressing firmly and not attempting to do anything more than that. Yuno's eyes go half lidded and tender, fingers dancing down over the curve of the sides of Asta's neck, and Asta wouldn't hear him if he weren't so close. "There's only one person I've ever given my heart to, Asta, and it will always, always be yours to keep." 

"What?" The word leaves as if it has been punched out of him, strangled and high pitched. Because.... WHAT?

Yuno must see the shock and confusion and incredulity that has to be written all over his features because he gives one of those slow, crooked smiles that Asta knows is reserved only for things that he finds endearingly stupid. "Of course it's always been you, Asta. Who else could it be?" 

Asta's throat works rapidly as he tries to form a response. There's just.... so many things he could respond to that with. He wants to ask so many things, but what finds its way to the forefront of his mind is the one major thing that cannot be ignored, cannot be explained in his opinion. 

"But you.... you... Lunary," he growls out, confused and irritated and hopeful and many, many other things all wrapped up inside of him ready to explode. 

Yuno's smile slides from his face as he stares somberly at Asta and then he takes a long, deep breath, still trembling and weak where he stands. "Lunary…. I... We..." He sways, just a bit, and Asta is there to steady him in a second and guides him along the wall to one of the many cushioned chairs lining another wall. He settles Yuno down carefully, the other man bestowing a look of gratitude towards him as he does so, and then he is dipping down to take a single knee in front of Yuno's chair, canting his head to look up at Yuno from where he is kneeling on the floor.

"I met Lunary that... first year you were gone. We had a... a summit, or something, that we had to attend and it was hosted there. From the moment I formally met the Spade King, I knew that he wanted me dead. He introduced me to his eldest daughter, Lunary, from one of his.... multiple... ah, wives." He pauses, uncomfortable, and Asta stays silent as he waits for him to elaborate. "The entire time I was there, the King kept pushing his daughter and I together, hoping I suppose that I would become infatuated with her," Yuno quirks his lips in a tired little smirk, eyes sparking momentarily, "What is a young Emperor without a beautiful and strong bride, he would joke, though neither of us found it very humorous. On one of our many.... ah, meetings, Lunary expressed the desire to never marry at all. She wishes to rule on her own, you see, as the first Woman to do so in the Spade Kingdom. She has no attraction to anyone, no matter their gender, and balks at the idea of ever having to birth a child herself." Yuno leans against the back of the chair as his gaze drifts up to stare at the ceiling, an ironic chuckle falling from his mouth. "Of course her father did not agree and found that in his power grabbing desire, she could be used as the ultimate weapon. You see, he would not ever allow a woman to be the ruler of Spade Kingdom, but he did not care who ruled the Clover, as long as it was someone he felt like he could control with an iron fist. Therefore..." Yuno makes a vague gesture with his hand, smirk tinged with disgust. "Lunary was the best candidate. One because he considered her to be controllable and two, because he felt that her simply being beautiful and in possession of a fertile uterus, that she could snag the newly crowned and young Emperor without anyone ever seeing it happen. He spoke to Lunary at length about his plans and, after much thought on her part, she revealed them to me." 

Asta feels something within himself stirring. His Demon mumbles incoherently in the back of his mind but they both start... piecing together interactions and overheard conversations in their minds, sharing them rapid fire between each other even as they continue to listen as Yuno speaks.

"Lunary's father is... was... despicable," Yuno practically spits the word, "in so many different ways. Lunary is just one of many, many children he has sired but is only one of two females. His other daughter is young, merely a babe, but Lunary… her mother died during childbirth, you see, and apparently was one of the King's favorites. He was... very distraught with her passing and was... unusually attached and obsessed with his daughter for her entire adolescent life. When she reached the age of fifteen, people started speaking of how stunningly beautiful she was, how much she looked like her deceased mother but somehow even more gorgeous. Lunary confessed to me, amongst our conversations back then, that her father's attention... shifted at that point." Yuno's face screws up into an angry scowl, cheeks regaining a small tinge of pink with an angry flush. "He... started finding... comfort with her. At night." Yuno meets Asta's gaze again, solemn, "In bed." He says, as if Asta really needs the clarification. Asta feels the hot prickle of bile creeping up the back of his throat.

"This is how she lived, for years, at the beckoned call of her... father. He would continue to also visit his multiple... wives.... but Lunary was the one that most likely was called to his bed. She is unsure on if no one else knew or if everyone was too afraid to say anything about it, but it didn't matter either way. This is why, when her father eagerly told her his plans of "marrying" her off to the new Clover Emperor and gloated about how he would kill the young man off so that no one would ever be allowed to touch her and he would gain a whole new Kingdom of territory, Lunary decided that she would not... could not... allow it to happen. She could not stomach having her father doing that for the rest of her life. And so, she told me everything she could, and she had only one request of me in exchange for the information.... that we go along with his plan, get her here and away from him as soon as possible, and that we only APPEAR to get married without truly doing so. In this way she could be away from him while we had time to plan a counter attack, of sorts. For the next two years I slowly fed myself different poisons, gaining a tolerance, while also having Klaus and some of his most trusted knights work on multiple different antidotes to always be carried on their person. We knew that was going to be the route he went, because he gloated to Lunary many times on the different poisons to be made from plants in the Spade Kingdom that were also undetectable if tested for." Asta's fists clench just as Yuno's do, both of them staring intently at each other. 

"I met..." Yuno starts and then stops, jaw clenching tight and nose scrunching as his shoulders raise up, something defensive that Asta hasn't seen him do since they were both young children, "I met... Haruka…. on one of my many visits to 'spend time' with Lunary." Asta jolts, suddenly sickened, as another piece slides into place. He feels the bile threatening to fully come up now. "He is... one of the Spade King's... bastards. A child out of one of his servants, taken care of but ignored. He... when Lunary presented him to me as her half-sibling I knew... I knew that he would be..." Yuno's voice gets quieter and quieter and more restricted as if he is having to force them out through choking. "I needed a... a reason for you to latch onto to be able to..." Stay. Yuno doesn't have to say the word and Asta doesn't even need to hear it to know that that's what Yuno means. He needed something... someone... to catch Asta's attention... his obsession... and keep him around even when he would rather run far away from the engagement and the protection detail. Yuno had known.... Asta's stomach swoops and he dry heaves to the side, palm slapping down against the marbled floor, face somehow both pasty white in mortification and hot with shame.... Yuno has known about his obsession all of this time. He had made it apart of a plan that span back years. He hears Yuno continue even through the buzzing of his ears. 

"The Spade King needed someone else in the Kingdom that wouldn't raise suspicion. Someone that could be here for years, becoming apart of the every day scene... could get into the castle without anyone suspecting anything. Could be the one to woo a servant girl to distraction while adding poison to the drink meant for myself...." Yuno trails off again, blinking sleepily, everything catching up with him quicker than originally expected. As much as Asta wants him to continue, needs him to continue, he needs him healthy and safe more and so he stands up, legs wobbling like a newborn foal, and Yuno follows the motion with his eyes, falling completely silent. Asta shakes his head side to side before offering Yuno a hand to pull him to his feet and into yet another hug. 

"Later," he mumbles, "You need rest." 

Later, Asta repeats to himself in his own mind as he watches Yuno get tucked into bed by healers and Klaus hovering anxiously to the side, the heavy and disappointed gazes of Julius and Yami drilling into his back between his shoulder blades.

Later, he thinks, as he settles into a chair beside Yuno's bed, watching as the man falls asleep gazing back at him. 

Later, he promises, as Klaus stiffly tells him that Noelle was touch and go for a little while but is alive and recovering somewhere else in the castle under close supervision.

Later, his Demon whispers to him, as he leans over to lay his head down against the bed next to where Yuno's hands have snaked out in his sleep to touch Asta's own. 

Later.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Commissioned Art of Lunary

https://www.deviantart.com/kuumiart/art/Commission-Luna-817485110

I hope you all enjoy :)


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